Hunter's Mark
by robbobert
Summary: Having learned that a famous big game hunter by the name of Onuris is en route to Cosmo Canyon to begin a new hunt, Nanaki decides to take a break from his travels to head home and meet this hunter face to face. As Nanaki and the hunter get acquainted, old fears begin to resurface in Nanaki's mind that shake him down to his very core.
1. Return - Arrival

Thanks for checking out Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy the story. A quick foreword: As with my other stories, this one follows Red XIII of Final Fantasy VII fame many years after the events of the game. Having learned that a famous big game hunter is en route to Cosmo Canyon to begin a new hunt, Red decides to take a break from his travels to head home and meet this hunter face to face.

I don't own Red XIII, so all credit goes to Tetsuya Nomura and Square Enix where that is concerned. **This story has minor tie-ins to the On the Way to a Smile novella, specifically to the Case of Nanaki section (surprising, I know).** However, while Case of Nanaki is a good read (and while it may be somewhat beneficial to give it a read before digging too deep into this), it's by no means required to understand the plot of Hunter's Mark.

With all that said, let's get this show on the road. Hunter's Mark is split up into five sections of three to four chapters each. The first section is called Return. A PDF of the entire first section (three chapters) and a link to the uncropped cover image by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request. Just send me a message. Thanks, and enjoy!

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Return

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1. Arrival

There was a period of time during which I made it my duty to travel the planet and learn as much about it as possible. It was a promise I made to my grandfather, and it was one which took me many years to honor. This world is a big place, after all, and I have more time than most to work with. Whereas the average human might see the turn of one century to the next if they are lucky, I have seen many centuries come and go. It was for nearly 200 years that I travelled, only occasionally returning home to Cosmo Canyon to rest, and over the course of that time, I learned much more than I thought I ever could about the planet. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I learned more than I thought I would about myself as well. You see, the truth of things is that I have the dubious distinction of being a beast of human intelligence.

I don't particularly like describing myself in those crude terms – taken individually, identifying myself as either 'beast' or 'human' is inadequate at best and insulting at worst – but put together they are decidedly apt, and so they are the words I choose. Being such a creature, I am aware enough to know that I owe allegiance both to the denizens of the natural world and to the humans of the civilized world. And yet I am also aware enough to realize that I do not quite belong to either group. I have built my life around classifications and giving names to the thoughts and events I experience, so it troubles me that despite all the connections I have to these two groups of life, I am unable to put myself cleanly away into one or the other. I cannot be a human because I understand the folly of man's brazenness and maliciousness, and yet I cannot be a beast because I understand that morality and free thought are matters that are purely human. And so I am somewhere in between. I am myself.

That is not to say I wish to change. Despite the difficulties that arise from my inability to classify myself, I fear for the loss either half of my being. This duality of man and beast has defined me for so long, manifested as a kind of continuous struggle to change and adapt to my circumstances, that it has become synonymous with who I am. And though it has always been problematic trying to function in a world where I do not quite belong, for some time when I was younger I feared the solution to the problem as much as I feared the problem itself. The only solution I could see was to assimilate fully into either my beast or human half. The two sides were contradictory and couldn't continue to coexist, my young mind thought, and I feared that that solution meant that I would lose hold of my identity. After all, removed from society, or from the wilds of the world, how would I change? Robbed of my animal instincts, or of my higher order thought, who would I become? Those questions frightened me, and for years and years I tried my hardest to push them away out of sight.

But alone on the road as I travelled, I had only my thoughts to keep me company, and gradually that fear edged its way into the front of my mind, changing my outlook on the world as it set in. The awe I had once felt about the size and beauty of the planet gave way to a sense of isolation and disaffection as I found myself not quite fitting in no matter where I visited. My determination not to think about it held, and as time passed, the feeling evolved into a sense of powerlessness and insignificance, eventually becoming a general inability to cope with my own existence. I realized that all the years of avoiding the issue of who I was had not only been counterproductive to my own personal development, but had also resulted in my neglecting those about whom I cared the most. The friends and family with whom I'd shared most of my early years had grown apart from me across a massive, ever-widening abyss, and I did not know how to begin to reconnect with them. I wondered if they would even notice if I were to leave and never return, or if they would shed a tear if I were to meet my end over the course of my travels, and I found I couldn't make myself answer. Moreover, I knew deep down that neither they nor I were getting any younger, and that any chances I might have to reconnect dwindled with each breath I took.

The months passed, and I continued to travel, unable to act on my fears. The sense of powerlessness grew, and questions on the subject of mortality arose from everything I experienced. I worried what these experiences might portend in my own future. It seemed at every turn I saw animals killed in the hunt, humans dying of terminal sicknesses, families torn apart by conflict… and no matter how I may have wanted to help, the doubts I had so deeply embedded in my mind left me paralyzed and made me shake uncontrollably. Gilligan, I called it – the suite of thoughts that made me shake so mercilessly – if for no other reason than for it to have a name, as though that would somehow make it more bearable. But I had lost my bearings, and no simple name would change that. The unfortunate reality that I had to face was that things would not fix themselves, and my inability to act condemned me to myself even as the deadline I knew would come approached. As time wound down and expired, my mind would be consumed by my failings.

In the end, I was saved by happenstance rather than any action of my own. In the midst of all my grief and rage, an old acquaintance found me and pulled me from the edge of my self-dug abyss even as I nearly tumbled into it. We spoke, and he helped me understand my fear, to see something I'd refused to acknowledge over the years, perhaps in the vain hopes that if I didn't admit it to myself, it could not be true: Death is everywhere and is ultimately unavoidable_._ That was at the heart of my fears, what drove Gilligan and spurred my inaction. Everyone, be they complete stranger, acquaintance, loved one… Even myself… Everyone dies eventually. And the cruelty of it was that because I was gifted with so much time, I would bear witness to the end of all of my loved ones as they faded away and were gone.

My acquaintance viewed death as a kind of reprieve…peaceful rest after the nightmare of life, but I viewed it differently. It felt almost like a punishment to me. I often wondered what would remain after my friends and loved ones died, and no matter how long I thought, I could see nothing. There would be myself and there would be nothing else. What my acquaintance showed me was that regardless of any insignificance or powerlessness I felt, it was the idea of being alone that I truly feared, and my actions alone could correct the path I was on.

That was a part of the reason for the travels thereafter, and it is why I have such a fondness for naming and cataloguing what I see. My travels kept those thoughts at bay, and by making new acquaintances and staying in touch with old friends, by making a place in my mind and my heart for my new experiences, I was able to keep going. Death is inevitable, but as long as there is something ahead of me, I've found I can keep moving forward. As long as I can build and maintain my place in the greater picture of life, I can be happy.

…..

It was during this period of travel that I first heard the name Nelson Ruger. They dubbed him "Onuris" after an ancient hunter who struck down all his enemies and himself was an aspect of the gods. From New Mideel in the south to Wutai in the far west, his name kept popping up around me, tied to stories variably heroic and horrendous that were told with such conviction that it was difficult to discern the truth about the man. He was a hunter extraordinaire – that much I could gather – and he was quite obviously world-famous and well-traveled. Surprisingly though, no matter my location throughout the years, Ruger happened to be somewhere else. I would have expected, as much ground as I had covered, that I would have crossed paths with him at least once, but evidently it was not meant to be.

I was lucky enough, however, to stumble across a fairly objective account of his life while passing through Costa del Sol one year. A news crew had set up near the beachfront, and a reporter was hurriedly reciting the man's biography to a large, expensive-looking camera. He was born into a rural family on the plains east of Kalm, and lived most of his earliest years working with his father to maintain their farm. He got his first taste of the hunt at the age of seven after a rash of deaths among the farm's stock animals led to him being told by his father to stay up overnight with a rifle to protect the herd. He ended up shooting the culprit, a Midgar wolf – one of the largest ever recorded – square between the eyes. There was a sudden influx of media coverage to the farm along with some very generous monetary donations from neighboring farms, and Ruger was heralded far and wide as a prodigy with the gun.

He spent the rest of his adolescent years doing odd jobs as a "pest control" agent of sorts, travelling all across the eastern continent in the process. His free time went almost exclusively into hunting, and in this way, he amassed a sizeable collection of trophy mounts. A job one year killing a zemzelett outside of Junon ended up being his big break. Zemzelett were notorious problem monsters in that time, and this breed was particularly dangerous, so Ruger's reputation as a monster hunter was solidified. In the years following, he added "rare" to his monster hunter title, killing a King Behemoth, a Grand Malboro, and a Blue Dragon (not all at once as far as I could tell). There even were rumors that he single-handedly managed to pry loose a scale from the head of a living Midgar Zolom in the years before the species went extinct, but the reports, according to the reporter to whom I must confer authority on the matter, were unconfirmed.

Toward the end of the broadcast, the reporter mentioned Ruger had passed through town a few days prior to my arrival on his way to Cosmo Canyon to begin a new hunt. Traveling on foot, evidently. My interest in him had been piqued, and his visit to the canyon gave me a good reason to return home for the first time in the past few years. Finally, I could meet and ascertain for myself the truth about Nelson Ruger.

I was able to hire a cab to get me to the Gongaga area in short order. That way I would have time to settle back in at the village before Ruger's arrival. I would have liked to return on foot, but given the time frame, I supposed that driving most of the way and then at least entering the canyon on foot would be a suitable alternative.

The cabby, who referred to himself as Minus, was an interesting fellow. He originally hailed from Junon – specifically from the village below the airfield. He had come to Costa del Sol with his family as a teenager on a vacation many years back. His parents had spent their entire savings procuring the tickets for the voyage and had nothing left once they actually docked at the port, so he felt the vacation was less than satisfactory. I found it odd that a vacation to one of the finest beaches on the planet could be "less than satisfactory." Given that beaches were free, it seemed to me that the lack of money couldn't really be a problem, but nonetheless, that's what the man said. The end of the vacation ended up disastrous, with his parents boarding the cruiser back to Junon without him. I gathered they were separated somehow while boarding, but he wasn't too clear on this point. The end result, however, was that his parents ended up back in Junon without him and without any money to get him home.

Minus picked up odd jobs around Costa del Sol in return for lodging over the next few years with the idea that he would save up what gil he could until he had enough to buy a ticket back home. In the meantime, he and his parents corresponded through the mail, trying their best to remain together as a family, even if the sea separated them. As the years passed, Minus grew to like his life in Costa del Sol, enough so that when the time actually came for him to buy his cruiser ticket home, he was hesitant. He wrote his parents for their advice, but he received no response from them. Several more letters went unanswered, and the longer and longer he waited, the more worried he became. At long last, he received a letter, but it was not from his parents. Instead it was a message from one of his old neighbors that he recounted to me verbatim:

_Minus,_

_I received your letters to your parents, and I'm sorry to inform you they are gone. You should not come back here. People are disappearing._

_-Ernest_

Part of him still wanted to return to Junon after reading the letter, but without any family to return to and with the warning given to him in the letter, he ultimately decided to remain in Costa del Sol. He put the money he had saved toward renting an apartment, and after a bit of searching, he landed a job as a cab driver. That was what he'd been doing ever since. I didn't know what I'd said to cause him to give me his life's story, but he certainly had done it. It was interesting in any case, and whether it was true or not – several elements of his story seem a bit unbelievable in retrospect – it made the time pass, so I didn't complain.

Upon arrival to the Gongaga area neighboring the canyon, I told Minus about my travels and offered to visit Junon to see if I could uncover any other information about his parents. He thanked me and refused, saying that it had happened so long ago that there was nothing to be done about it anymore. I still planned to visit out of kindness, or at least I did until he gave me my bill for the cab ride. Could have afforded at least two trips to Junon with what I paid him.

The walk over the remaining plains to Cosmo Canyon was uneventful. It was the same every time I returned. Smells of the sea, of salt water and green grass, rolled in from the coast on a light but persistent cool wind, and the sun shone brilliantly in the blue sky above. Quite idyllic. I always wondered why, aside from what remained of the Gongaga village, there were no human settlements in the area. Humans have a knack for inhabiting any area it is possible to inhabit, so it seemed strange to me that a habitat with nigh on perfect conditions for them would be left unsettled.

After around an hour of walking, I spotted the first major landmark that let me know I was getting close. Standing oddly out from the rising plateaus ahead of me was a single tall, thin spire of red rock. The tip of the spire was different than I remembered – different enough to make me second-guess that it actually was the one I remembered. The last I'd seen of it, it was cut almost flat on top, as though some great swordsman had sliced it down in a fit of rage. What I saw now was a sharply tipped peak. Perhaps it had fractured under some environmental stress or other, and the suddenly loosed chunk of rock had slid off and shattered on the ground. Or perhaps the swordsman had chosen to remodel his work. I mused on these two possibilities for a moment before continuing on my way, finding that I couldn't decide which was more likely. On cue after passing the spire, the scents in the air shifted from sea salt and grass to something much more earthy. The grass fell away and was replaced by red dirt and rock, and before I knew it, the familiar high plateaus of the canyon surrounded me on every side.

_There really is nothing quite like the smell of the canyon_, I thought to myself.

As much as I had travelled, seen, and smelled, the canyon truly was unique. It epitomized the world to me – deep, rich, and natural, changing throughout the year, and yet always remaining the same. Its scent filled my nostrils and invigorated me, eliciting a spontaneous smile. I couldn't hold myself back. Anticipation of home grew inside like a great inflating balloon and lifted me off my feet. I broke out into a loping gallop across the rocky terrain, and the wind in my face and its howl in my ears spurred me on. The gallop evolved swiftly into a sprint, and the canyon became a blur around me, shades of ochre and umber and red and orange flying by faster than I could process them. I don't know how long I ran – only that I was utterly out of breath by the time the village came into view.

…..

"Hey, Nanaki's back!"

I hadn't even made it halfway up the stairs to the village before being spotted. Word spread quickly, and by the time I'd reached the top of the stairs, passed under the familiar arch bearing the words "COSMO CANYON" in big block letters, and greeted Eian, the village's gate attendant, a group of villagers had gathered in front of the Cosmo Candle to see me. Farther off, several people I did not recognize milled around, peering around the crowd with an odd look of uncertainty.

The moment I noticed them, I became aware of a sensation inside me that something was somehow different about the village, but I couldn't pin it down. A quick glance around the landing showed me that everything was mostly as I remembered it. As always, the Cosmo Candle burned brightly at the center or the landing, its eternal flame unfazed by my return. The same huts still stood, scattered around – the pub, the inn, and a few residences – and the high-rise butte that my grandfather's observatory sat upon was as monolithic as ever. The same ladders leading up the side of the butte ended at the shop hut and more residences, and the same stairway carved into the rock meandered its way upward to a point where it disappeared into the interior of the high-rise. But there was something… off about it all… What was it?

"Welcome back, Nanaki!" called an elderly woman named Marin as she led the group of villagers over to me. Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around my neck and embraced me. "You're looking well. I trust your travels have been rewarding?"

Marin had lived most of her life in Cosmo Canyon, having originally come, as most do, to get involved in the study of Planet Life. She had been a burgeoning scientist, and although her aspirations of making a career of it faded when she realized the Study was as much spiritual as it was scientific, her love of the village did not. As a result, she ended up staying in the village well past the end of her work.

"I would not have it any other way," I responded, embracing her gently with one forepaw in return.

Standing back up, she responded, "You'll have to share some of your experiences with us tonight around the Candle."

As best I could, I smiled without baring any teeth. "Absolutely." I wasn't sure how well I succeeded, but I certainly made a calculated effort. Humans like to see teeth in a smile when it comes from another human, but for someone like me, I've always worried a toothy grin might be taken the wrong way.

I received a chorus of "welcomes" and "happy to see yous" over the next short while and was happy, if not a bit surprised, to be greeted so warmly. The strangers I'd noticed before stood their ground on the far side of the Candle but were no longer directing their attention toward me, barring the occasional sideways glance. What did they expect me to do? Burst into flames? Explode like fireworks? I couldn't understand their wariness.

"Pleasure to have you back, sir." An open hand was suddenly thrust in my face, stopping just short of hitting me square on the nose. I jerked my attention away from the strangers and stared at the hand for a moment, bewildered, before tracing it back to its source. A young man, possibly in his early twenties, had stepped out from the crowd and had his hand outstretched, apparently awaiting a handshake.

"Erm… Pleasure to be back." I raised a paw to him, and he took it into his hand and gave it a good sturdy shake. I can still recall the question going through my head: _Do I know who this is?_

Evidently I did not, as he introduced himself shortly thereafter. "I'm Marcus. I'm a new student here in the canyon. Haven't been here long, so in case you're wondering, this is the first time we've met."

"Ah, I see. Well it is good to meet you, Marcus. How'd you end up here in the canyon?"

"Yes sir, it's good to meet you too. My story's a bit unremarkable. Was born in the Kalm lands –err, the plains outside of Kalm I mean. Bit of a local name, Kalm lands. Grew up in the shadow of Midgar wondering how a big, mechanical city like that ever came to be. Learned about Mako energy when I was a kid, and that led to the Lifestream, and so on and so forth, and here I am."

"As good a story as any, I think."

"Well I appreciate it, sir. I'll be honest. I've been told a lot about you since I got here, and I was nervous to meet you, so I hope I didn't overstep my bounds at all."

"Hmm… No, you're perfectly fine. A minor suggestion though: there's no need to call me sir unless you're out to make me uncomfortable while I'm here. Simply Nanaki is fine."

A male voice from somewhere in the crowd followed up quickly, saying, "You also might try introducing yourself first before shoving your hand in his face, eh Marcus? Might not come back with all your fingers next time."

The statement drew laughter from the crowd and embarrassment from Marcus, as evidenced by the instantly flushed tones on his face. I had meant only the best with my words about not calling me "sir," but in retrospect, they seemed a poor decision.

"Well Marcus, I'll be here for a week or so. What do you say we get together sometime and you share with me what you've learned so far, okay?"

He grinned and responded, "Definitely! Sounds great!" His face only became more flushed as he said it, making me unsure if I'd helped or hurt his situation. He backed up and disappeared into the crowd, and that was the last I saw of him for the time being.

The crowd thinned out after another 15 minutes or so, each person withdrawing with a final "welcome home" or "glad to see you're doing well" before leaving, and eventually all that remained were myself and Eian.

"Who are those people across the way?" I asked him.

"Them? They've been here a few days now. I presume you know that Nelson 'Onuris' Ruger is on his way here?" He accentuated each word in Ruger's name in a semi-sarcastic manner.

"I had heard. So they're here for him?"

"Yup. First one got here about five days ago, right about the time that Onuris first announced he was coming. Corinn over at the inn says that the moment the announcement hit the airwaves, she started getting requests for reservations. Place is booked solid over the next month."

"No kidding. This 'Onuris' carries quite a bit of celebrity with him then, does he? Any word on what he's coming to hunt?"

"Nope, that's still a mystery. Most of the folks that got here ahead of him seem to think that he's after a big hippogriff, white as snow with bluer eyes than you've ever seen, but a few of them say that's just a cover."

_Why would he need a cover? _"I suppose it will be good sales for the shops and the pub while he's here then. Lots of fans means lots of customers."

"Aye, that it does…" Eian paused. "…How do you feel about it? About him?"

"Hmm… That's a question easier asked than answered."

"I don't care for him, personally. He makes a living off killing, and whether it's monsters or not, that just doesn't sit right with me. There's no place for that in Cosmo Canyon."

I laughed lightly and responded. "I can understand that. Hunting does seem to be somewhat at odds with the philosophy of Planet Life… But perhaps it isn't all for sport, in which case death is merely another part of living. Another step in the flow of Planet Life. …I don't know… I am certainly interested to meet him, but as of yet, I find it difficult to form any opinions about him."

An indignant "hmph" was all I got in response, and for a moment we were silent, watching Ruger's fans building a makeshift camp of tents and sleeping bags behind the Cosmo Candle. "Well then, will you be staying in the research center while you're here?" Eian finally asked, breaking the silence.

"The observatory? I would love to if it isn't a problem."

He laughed, not quite as lightly as I had before. "Nanaki, you seem to have forgotten over the past few years what it means to be home. Elder Aren's been taking care of the place for you in your absence. I'm sure he'll have no problem turning the reins over to you. Would you like to head up there now?"

"Sure. I'm a bit worn out from the trip here. I could use a familiar place to sleep."

"Let's head up then."

…..

A few minutes later, we found ourselves at the top of the high-rise knocking on the door to the observatory. Sure enough, Elder Aren had no qualms about leaving it in my care for the duration of my stay. We spoke for a few minutes about my travels before he and Eian turned to head back down to the village proper. As they left, Eian told me that Ruger was expected to reach the village shortly before nightfall and that he would come back up to get me once he arrived. I thanked him, and they disappeared down the ladder to the lower levels of the village, leaving me to my own devices.

I stood in the front doorway of the observatory for a few moments afterwards, listening to the sounds of the canyon. The wind from the plains was still present here in the village, albeit in a warmer, drier form, and it carried on its back the chatter of a few species of bird that I could not identify. A weather vane on the roof squeaked quietly in the wind every now and again, silhouetted against a wall of yellow-white cumulus clouds in the sky. Down below, someone bellowed a hearty laugh. And beyond that there was nothing. Everything was still, almost stagnant in the afternoon light. I stood silently in the doorway and felt as though I were waiting for something to happen.

_Is this it?_ The phrase repeated over and over in my mind until the words lost their meaning. _Is this what? Is what it?_ I could not make sense of what I was asking myself, and so the answer was out of reach. I was happy to be back in the place I'd grown up, no doubt, but somewhere deep down, I felt a pang of…not disappointment, but… of longing maybe, or perhaps even sadness. Why? After a few more moments of silence, I turned and walked inside, closing the door behind me.

I could still make out the birds' voices through the metal walls of the observatory, though just barely – overwhelmingly, it was quiet, enough so that I became aware of a faint but persistent ringing in my ears. _What's the word for that? …Tin… Tinnitus? …No, That can't be right._

A musty, aged scent pervaded the area, a rather clear sign that the observatory had not seen much use in my absence. Elder Aren may have kept the place in shape, but he certainly hadn't lived here. Which made sense, ultimately. The "research center" hardly qualified as such anymore. In the years since the Meteor Crisis and the subsidence of the Geostigma epidemic, the cries of the planet, which had once been a subject of much scrutiny and debate due to their anomalous behavior, had settled into a rhythmic sort of slumber. Nothing worth recording, so that particular function of the center fell into disuse. And because Grandfather and I were essentially the only two in the village with any interest in stargazing, the telescope for which the center's observatory was originally built was rarely used either. I could practically smell the dust gathering on it even though it was two floors above me. For the most part, this was a residence now, and even that might have been an exaggeration.

I took a few minutes and walked all through the first floor of the house, checking to see that everything was where I remembered it being. The dining table had gathered dust, as had the few chairs scattered about. The refrigerator against the back wall looked to be non-operational, as did the stove next to it. Water still ran in the sink at least. I took the opportunity to slake the thirst I'd built while running to the village. _Nothing quite like the water in the canyon either._ Something about the minerals in the rocks… a delight to the taste buds.

Other than that, I had a strange sense of being afraid of touching anything for fear, I guess, of breaking it. Something my Grandfather had told me when I was younger, that "you don't have eyes on the ends of your paws," popped into my head and drew a smile onto my face. An elaborate way of saying, "don't touch what isn't yours." This in mind, I stuck my head into his planetarium briefly. The planets still hung in the night sky, captured motionless in the midst of their orbits. It would have been nice to run the Planet Life demonstration, but…maybe some other time.

The ladder to the second floor of the observatory was surprisingly sturdy under my weight given its appearance – I had made sure to test it first before committing to the climb but was still slightly worried. Conversely, the bed upstairs, which looked like it hadn't aged a day since I'd first left the canyon as a cub, sagged in the middle when I laid on it.

"Buah," I said to myself upon lying down, the bedsprings creaking under my weight. "That was unexpected." Rolling onto my back proved much more comfortable, much akin to lying in a hammock, so I assumed the position and relaxed with my front legs crossed over my chest.

A deafening quiet settled over the room once more, and as I listened to myself breathing, I noted that it again it felt as if I were waiting for something to happen. _Was it like this when Grandpa was doing his research?_ I wondered. "Hmm…"

In my mind's eye, I could see him floating about the observatory busying himself with various tasks, writing research notes in a book, cooking himself a meal, sitting at the telescope watching the stars while listening to the planet. I saw him in the planetarium with me, showing me how the demonstration worked for the first time. The planets, turning on their axes, running merrily along on their orbits… The meteors flying through the sky, the green and red and blue streams of spirit energy all weaving together into a single grand thread. The planet, crumbling to pieces as the spirit energy was removed for Mako production… Somewhere in the midst of these thoughts, sleep took me by surprise.

It was an uneasy sleep, one from which I gladly would have awoken if I could have. I dreamed of the color black. Black, without form or substance, with no weight or scale. I thought it to be the night sky at first, but the complete lack of stars or light of any kind made it clear in short order that this was something else entirely. It seemed to ripple, even despite the lack of form, and it struck a profound chord of dread in me that made me feel as though I were stuck on my back, sinking into an invisible bog. And it was everywhere. I could not shield myself from it, this impenetrable blackness, no matter how I tried. It was there, unapologetic, writhing just out of sight, watching from the abyss. I had one thought in the dream, a desperate plea, which was on my lips as I awoke: "Please, please just go away. Just leave me alone."

…..

I awoke speaking the words to the ceiling of the bedroom on the second floor of the observatory. The words were calm, but my heart rate belied their demeanor.

"Pardon me?" I heard from below.

The voice gave me a start; it took a few seconds for me to recognize it as belonging to Eian. "Oh…" I called out to him, taking a few deep breaths. "It's nothing, Eian… I –" I tried once and then twice with a quick grunt to turn toward the ladder. No luck. I had sunk even farther into the bed since I'd fallen asleep – the mattress had collapsed in on itself to form a pit around me that deepened and tightened its grip with every movement I made. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get myself up out of the bed. I was effectively pinned in place.

"Oh, okay then," he responded a bit uncertainly. "Well I just wanted to let you know that we're expecting Onuris to arrive in the next five or ten minutes. Thought you might want to come down to… uh…" He paused for a moment while I struggled (and failed) to pull myself out of the hole and get to my feet. "Are you… Are you all right up there, Nanaki?"

I made a few more strained attempts to escape before giving up with a frustrated sigh and sinking limply back down into the hole in the bed. My tail flopped over and its fire flickered mockingly in my face. "I'll be honest. I could use some help here."


	2. Return - Two Tales

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! A PDF of the entire first section of the story (three chapters) and the uncropped cover image by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request. Just send me a message!

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2. Two Tales

Eian laughed uncontrollably as we descended the ladder to the mid-levels of the village. "I have never seen anything so hilarious in my life!"

I was not amused.

His laughter died down long enough for him to blurt out, "It looked like the bed was trying to eat you," and then it caught a second wind.

I grumbled irritably at him as we passed the kitchen area and reached the top of the stairway leading outside. Under my breath I muttered, "It isn't that funny."

"Oh yes it is!" He continued to laugh as he spoke. "I can't even imagine what everyone's gonna say when I tell them I came up to get you and all I could see was a stray paw sticking up out of the bed."

I stopped walking. "I would appreciate if you could leave this between the two of us. Keep it under wraps."

His laughing halted as he stopped and turned to look at me. He looked dazed and confused, like he'd just realized I didn't think it was all that humorous. And then he spoke: "Keep it under wraps? Under covers is more like it!" And the laughter rolled on.

The last remark even got an involuntary smirk out of me. I shook my head, half out of disappointment at my smile and half to fight back my own laughter. "You're lucky I put my friends above my reputation," I said through my betraying smile, "or you would have some major problems right now."

We made our way down to the bottom level of the village and stopped on the stairway just before the landing. I could not believe what I saw. The sun looked like it had hardly moved in the sky since I'd arrived, but the entire area was now packed with people – at least two hundred of them – right up to the entrance to the village, and more streamed in even as we stood there.

_How long was I asleep?!_ "Where did all these people come from?" I gasped.

"They started showing up after I took you up to the research center. Right on your heels, actually."

"I don't understand though…_Where_ did they come from? I didn't see another soul on the road on the way here. It's like they just appeared out of thin air."

"Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that it's made my job pretty much undoable. Can't guard the gates if I can't get to them."

In the sea of people in front of us I could hear innumerable conversations unfolding, voices ebbing and flowing, battling for supremacy. "…I've been following him for more than three years. Never actually seen him though. I'm glad I caught that newscast back in… The guy is a total blowhard. I don't even know why I… Yeah, well I actually bought one of his old rifles in the auction back in New Mideel. Thing shoots so far left I swear I almost took out my own… Ona-who? Who's that? I'm just following along cause I had nothing better… I swear I'm gonna get his autograph this time, even if it's the last thing I do… Oh man, you're such an idiot. You really believe all that mumbo jumbo? You're so gullible I could… Yeah, I'm only down here for the night. Gotta head back to Junon in the morning. …Oh yeah? Me too. Just couldn't pass up the chance, you know?"

The onslaught of voices was overwhelming, but from what I could hear, it sounded like many of the people had come just for a chance to see Ruger and then were going to be on their way home, wherever that may have been. Good news, all things considered. I had never seen the village filled to capacity like this, and I don't think it could have withstood it for more than a night. Too many mouths to feed, too many beds to be filled, and quite frankly, too many different personalities to keep on good terms with each other. Pack that many humans into a tight space for any period of time and it's like lighting the fuse on a powder keg – they _will_ find something to fight about. For the moment, though, all was well. They were waiting.

"Where are the elders? How are they handling this?" I asked.

"Oh, they're down there somewhere I think. Somewhere…" Eian scanned the crowd for any sign of a familiar face. "Ah! There," he said, pointing toward the middle of the crowd. "There's Elder Aren, over by the front gates. Looks like Elder Nadil's with him."

I couldn't pick out either of them from the crowd, so I had to take his word for it.

"Oh, and she doesn't look too happy," he added.

"A bit overwhelmed maybe."

"Speaking of which, I think Elder Phoenix is upstairs. He's helping to get the kitchen set for a long night."

"It does seem like it's going to be a rough one, doesn't it?"

"Y—" Eian was interrupted.

From somewhere out of sight over the edge of the landing, cheering could suddenly be heard. It was muffled but powerful, emanating from a large group of people, but at what distance from the village, I found it difficult to gauge. And there was something else…

_It's moving…_

It took a moment to confirm, but the cheering did, in fact, seem to be moving, slowly rising in intensity as it travelled nearer and nearer to the village. All conversation around us had fallen away into silence, and everyone was listening and trying to get as close as possible to the edge of the landing to see what they could see. For a long moment, the only thing to be heard was the rising roar as it meandered toward us. Was this him?

The intense quiet on the landing dredged up a feeling of visceral anticipation in me that I was sure everyone in front of me felt as well. The air was electric. It was an otherworldly experience. _How many people are out there? _I wondered to myself._ There can't possibly be so many… That's just… impossible, right?_

"There he is! I see him!" someone finally called out from the far end of the village, breaking the silence.

The roar instantly reached us, and I couldn't help but wonder how in the world any celebrity could be worthy of such a reception. I hadn't even received this kind of reception after the Meteor Crisis. It was mystifying and somewhat alarming. But where was he? The roar continued on without any apparent reason for it. Enough time passed that I wondered if perhaps it was a false alarm – maybe a few people in the distance thought it would be interesting to cheer at nothing to see if other people would blindly follow suit. If so, their plan had worked to perfection.

Alas, I was proven wrong in relatively short order. Amidst the roar of the people, I saw those who were standing on the front stairway of the village begin to move, stepping to either side as someone walked up the steps between them.

_Ruger. Onuris._

He walked forward, raising his hands every few steps as though he were willfully parting the people like water in the sea. In reality, he was merely waving to the crowd, acknowledging their distinct approval of his arrival. I saw his mouth move, shaping out the words, "Thank you. Thank you," over and over again, but I could hear nothing over the cheering and clapping of the people. I spotted both Elders Aren and Nadil near the front gate as they stopped Ruger to welcome him, bowing politely and then shaking his hand. They seemed to be conversing with him, but I had difficulty seeing what they were saying from my vantage point. Ruger's responses at various points were something along the lines of, "Yup, I think maybe a week or two," and "Not right now. In a while maybe," and "Yeah, up there looks good." While speaking the last sentence, he pointed in the direction of Eian and myself without actually looking at us.

Elder Aren nodded and turned and began leading Ruger through the crowd in our direction, and I got my first really good look at him as they came to the base of the stairway below us. The elder stopped and waved him forward up the stairs, and he came up to the first step. He looked at first glance to be in his mid-thirties – but I've never been a good judge of humans' ages, so he might have been older. He was not especially tall for a human, standing maybe five feet nine inches high, and was built into a stocky if not slightly overweight frame. His short-cut light brown hair was well hidden under a tan, sweat-stained cowboy hat and a blue-black bandana wrapped around his neck. Slung over his back was a large hiking pack, and latched into place on either side of it were two hunting rifles of notably different construction. One looked like a more traditional wood and metal build, with a basic glass scope mounted on top, but the other was entirely metal, mythril from the looks of it, with a much heavier duty scope sitting atop it. There appeared to be slots for materia in the second rifle, though they were at the moment empty. At his waist was a pair of silver plated pistols that glinted at me in the sunlight. The man was armed to the teeth. I wouldn't have been surprised if there were more weapons in his backpack.

The first impression I developed of Ruger based on my observations was one of vague disappointment, though I had difficulty pinning down from exactly where it stemmed. Perhaps it was an unintentional product of all the stories I'd heard about him. I had devised and committed to memory my own personal mental image of him based on what I'd heard of him over the years – a wonderful, horrible master of the art of hunting; a god among men… And seeing him now…

_Hmm. A surprisingly average appearance for a human. Not at all what I had envisioned._

Ruger had his head turned toward the crowd as he took the first few steps up the stairs, acknowledging his fans' still-unfaltering cheers, but then he looked down to double check his footing and looked up the rest of the steps directly at me. He had a scar across his right eye from his brow to his cheekbone, quite similar to my own except that his eye had not been damaged. Both eyes were a startling green color, almost unnaturally saturated. And I could swear there was an open-mouthed smile of wonderment on his face as he looked up and saw me that disappeared and was instantly replaced by another similar, but distinct, emotion. I thought I saw his eyes widen as they locked on me, and for a bewildering moment, my mind was stunned. His mouth drifted shut and his smile faded away as he drew closer, but his eyes were fixed.

And then he stood before me. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. I struggled to find something to say, but I found that not only did I not have any words but I was also unable to move.

"Who's this little guy?" Ruger asked after a moment, reaching down and ruffling my hair with one of his hands.

The spell was broken instantly as my stunned silence was replaced by stunned shock. _Did he really just pet me? _A flash of red streaked across my field of vision as, for just a moment, I lost my composure.

"Nanaki, perhaps you could introduce yourself rather than just standing there as though you've been struck dumb," Elder Nadil said lightheartedly as she and Elder Aren ascended behind Ruger.

The red haze faded and I was able this time to find words. "The name is Nanaki," I said, looking back up at him. _Not 'little guy.' _"You are Nelson Ruger, I presume."

Ruger was taken aback at hearing my voice, responding, "Ho, it can talk!" He looked past me at Eian with an expression of wild surprise, as if to ask, 'Did you hear that too?' Eian said nothing.

At the same time, I looked past Ruger at the elders, asking them with my own expression, 'Is this really happening?'

Elder Aren picked up on the cue, coming up behind Ruger and asking him, "Will this spot be good enough for your speech?"

Ruger glanced over his shoulder at Aren, then at me quickly, and then out at the crowd. "Yeah, this'll be just fine. Should only take a second or two."

"Well then," Elder Aren said. "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for all of us to speak later, but as for now, I think you had better address your crowd before they run their voices ragged, eh?"

"Ah, sometimes you just gotta let 'em go for a bit, see how long they can keep it up, ya know? I had a crowd once, I swear to ya, they went on for 20 solid minutes before I had to say anything."

He expected us to be impressed, I gathered, but we all were silent. He waited for a response, glancing at each of us momentarily, and upon realizing he was not going to get it, said, "Ok…" and turned to face the people. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled the wooden-stocked rifle from its holster and held it up in the air in his right hand.

_ What in the…_

The crowd seemed to take it as a sign, as almost immediately the cheers subsided. Within about twenty seconds it was quiet enough for him to speak.

"Wow, what a sight this is," he said at an only slightly elevated volume, as though he were speaking only to a small room of people. "Thank y'all for comin' all the way out here to show your support. This really wouldn' be the same great job if it weren't for the encouragement each and every one of you gives me every step of the way, so I just want to say thanks. I'll make sure I don't disappoint ya here in Cosmo Canyon. I'm already on the trail of the beast, and I will come away from here with my kill."

The cheering and clapping of hands in approval began again. From somewhere toward the far end of the village, a voice could be heard over the cheers asking the question, "What are you hunting this time, Onuris?"

Ruger's response was simply, "I'll make sure you all have a chance to see in a week's time." A few people gasped at hearing his expected timetable of only a week, but overwhelmingly, the cheers continued, unfettered. He raised his rifle to eye level again to acknowledge the people and then continued. "Thank you. For those who got rooms here at the inn, I'll be right out here for autographs and maybe a tale or two later tonight. For everyone else who can't stay, I jus' want to say thanks again for comin' out, and I hope to see ya again next month at the Corel critter roundup in the Corel Mountains. Y'all take care."

He stepped back from the ledge and turned to us while waving his free hand at the crowd. "Well, what do ya think? Was that okay?" he asked in an obviously rhetorical manner.

"Sounds like they're satisfied to me," Elder Aren returned.

The crowd continued on almost feverishly applauding Ruger. I still couldn't explain the reasons behind such applause, but the elder was right: they certainly did sound satisfied. _How ridiculous._

"Alright. So then, where am I stayin'? Been on the road for almost a week now. I'm about ready to take a load off."

"It's the big room on the upper floor of the inn. I'll take you there if you're ready," Elder Aren proposed.

"Sounds good." Ruger took a few steps toward the stairs and then stopped. "Hey you," he said, turning and pointing his rifle casually at me. "I wanna talk to you sometime tonight, ya hear?"

"Me? Ah…Okay," was all I managed to say.

"Okay." He withdrew his rifle and said, "Let's head out, Aaron."

Elder Aren's expression was blank for a moment as he processed the mispronunciation of his name, and then the two of them descended the stairs and made their way through the crowd toward the inn.

After watching them wade through the cheering people for a moment, Elder Nadil leaned over and quietly said to me, "That man is a character. It's going to be interesting having him here."

…..

The cheers lasted for five minutes or so after Ruger disappeared into his room, and then they degenerated back into the same disorganized humming chatter of many different conversations overlaid on top of each other. By the time the sun had set in the sky about an hour later, people seemed generally to have lost interest in waiting and instead set about filing down the long stairway out of the village.

As the yellow sunlight turned orange and then red, I made my way through the remaining groups of Ruger's fans, listening to what they had to say to each other and to me. Several of them showed the same kind of surprise at seeing me talk for the first time that Ruger had shown, and a few of them commented that they thought they had heard my name somewhere before, but they just couldn't place where.

A vast majority happened to be hunters themselves, variably accomplished but invariably less so than Ruger. The most common things I heard from them, the facts they most freely admitted to each other and to me, were their most cherished hunting experiences and kills. They seemed to be trying to top each others' stories, each person in turn telling a tale even more outlandish than the last. I began to notice after a while that everyone's most amazing hunt involved killing a top predator, Nibel wolves and bears chief among them. It was always an animal that was either killed with a single, impeccably well-placed shot, or that was rabid, or that was 'bigger than you would have thought possible,' or that was simply 'the most incredible thing' they had ever seen. I wondered, firstly, what reason could be behind the preponderance of predators as the favored hunting target of the majority of the hunters, and secondly, how it was that these people could rationalize taking what they themselves professed to be 'the most incredible thing' they had ever seen and shooting it between the eyes. There was a disconnect there, but I was afraid to call their attention to it for fear of offending anyone. Also, considering that I bore a strong resemblance to what one might call a "top predator," I figured it best that I keep my mouth shut.

By the time night had fully fallen, I had made my way through most all of them, had listened to most all of their stories, and had heard if not learned many of their names. The air had cooled off considerably, and a group of us – hunters, villagers, and myself – had gathered around the Cosmo Candle to stay warm and continue our conversations. Marin and Marcus sat close by on either side of me. Marin seemed to be content to sit and watch the fire with me, but Marcus looked uncomfortable and fidgety, almost as if he felt like he was obligated to say something but had nothing worth saying.

"So Marcus," I said, breaking the apparently awkward silence between us. "How long ago did you begin your studies here in the canyon? You weren't here when I visited a few years ago."

"Who me?" he asked abruptly, trying to get an answer to his lips. "Oh, I've only been here the last six months or so."

"A good six months, I trust?"

"Yes sir – I mean Nanaki."

I smiled. "I see," I said, and watched him. It was quiet between us again. I had expected a bit more conversation to sprout from my question, but he said no more. Taking another stab at it, I asked, "What are you working on at the moment? Just general studies, or do you have a specific avenue of research you're pursuing?"

"Well…" He again struggled for words.

_Do I scare him or something?_

"Well, my primary interests are in the ecology of the Lifestream."

"Ecology of the Lifestream? That sounds interesting. How exactly do you go about studying that?"

"It's behavior of the Lifestream. Where does it go, why does it go there, how does it get there, so on and so forth. I'm sure you know that there are natural upwellings of the Lifestream at various spots around the planet."

I nodded.

"The Northern Crater, the Meteor impact site at Midgar, and the pools at Old Mideel are some of the better known spots, but there are many smaller spots as well. The major upwellings are usually in response to some kind of damage to the planet that requires a significant input of spirit energy to repair, but there are cases where this isn't the cause. The upwelling at Old Mideel is a good example. There's another similar series of upwellings in the forest at the northeast edge of Cosmo Canyon. No evident trauma, but the Lifestream is really concentrated there, just like Mideel. So that's what I've been studying as of late."

"Interesting. Why do you think that is?"

"That's what I'm hoping to find out. My hypothesis is that it's tied to the high biodiversity of these areas, kind of like a reallocation of spirit energy to meet the demands of the resident life forms, but I'm still collecting data, so I can't make any conclusions yet. I've been to several upwellings around the world to take measurements of biodiversity, disturbance of the habitat, and general magnitude of the upwellings, so hopefully there will be some sort of correlation when it's all said and done."

"Sounds like a great project," I responded.

He smiled. "Thanks. I'm glad you think so. I'm actually going to be heading out to the forest tomorrow to take some measurements if you'd like to join me." He stopped and seemed immediately to regret having asked. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, or like if you're busy or something. Just thought I'd ask."

"Sure, I would be happy to join you," I responded quickly, though I was aware of a slight inward sense of apprehension. "It's been quite some time since I was through the Ancient Forest."

Marcus beamed a smile at me. "Great. Heading out in the morning, so I'll come find you."

And then there was silence again, and it was perhaps even more uncomfortable now, as though there were something still left to be said between us. The smile faded from Marcus's face as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a strange, vaguely contemplative emotion, and I saw his gaze avert itself into the reaches of the Candle's flame.

The seconds ticked agonizingly by, and my mind raced to find something to fill the silence, grasping at volumes upon volumes of empty space and panicking that it could find nothing. How long would this last?

At my side, Marcus looked contemplatively for a moment longer into the fire and then took in a deep breath and looked back at me. "You know, I really didn't think you'd say yes. Don't get me wrong – I'm excited that you did, but…" He paused. "I don't know. I kinda feel guilty stealing you away out of the village again so soon after you've arrived. …The people here really speak glowingly of you, you know. Seriously feels like I could write a book about you from all I've heard in the six months I've been here. It's why I was so excited to meet you earlier." After another short pause, he continued. "And they really seem to miss you when you're gone. I could hear the sadness in their voices the day I arrived, and I felt the collective relief when you returned today."

"Nanaki's known most of us since our first days in the canyon." Marin on the other side of me had tuned in on the conversation. "For many, that's been since the day they were born, so it is natural that we feel that way about him. Nanaki is family here." She smiled as she finished speaking and placed her hand lightly on my shoulder. "And there are those of us who worry that Nanaki may leave one day, and we may not see him again for one reason or another. Perhaps that is what you heard in our voices, Marcus."

"So then… I guess I just wouldn't have expected you to be so eager to leave again so soon. I mean, if this is your family and you care about them as much as they care about you… Why do you do it? All the travelling, I mean. With all the sadness they feel while you're gone… I just don't understand."

I couldn't respond for a moment. He had quickly shifted from reticence to… _Is he accusing me of something?_ "…It is difficult to put into words, Marcus. I made a promise to my grandfather many years ago, and I guess that promise is a big part of why I still travel. In a way, it's my own study of Planet Life, perhaps less experimental than yours, but ongoing nonetheless. And I think another part of it …" I thought of the overwhelming sense of confusion and desperation that had plagued me throughout the years. "Even after all these years of travelling, I feel like I am still searching for something. All the places I've seen, all the people I have visited and spoken with, all the plants and birds and beasts with whom I've shared my path… I still haven't found the answers I need. Does that make sense?"

"To me? No, but it sounds like it does to you. I guess that's what matters. Please forgive me if I overstepped my bounds. I was only curious. "

_Does it really make sense? _For some reason, even after having answered it, his question dug into me, like a sharp rock being pressed in between my ribs. The dream of the blackness ran through my mind again, and I thought of all the people I hadn't seen for the two years since I'd last come home. _Why do you do it? Why don't you stay? _Was there another reason?

I glanced down at my front feet and then ahead into the heart of the Cosmo Candle. The flames danced wildly around against the night sky and gradually fell away into undulating orange blurs as my vision defocused. As much as I tried not to think about it, the thought crept into my mind that I perhaps did not view the villagers in the canyon the same way they viewed me. The canyon certainly was home for me, but… Why couldn't I return the affections of the people there? Why **was** I so eager to leave again?

"Nanaki?" The flames snapped back into focus. I realized I had retreated into my mind rather too far, and it had caught the attention of Marin. "Ah, there you are," she said as I came back to attention. "It is not good to brood like that. Brooding will only beget frustration, and from that can only come anger and despondence. You know there is no one here who doesn't support every step that you take. We are here for you, and we know that even in the midst of your travels, you are here for us as well."

I glanced at her and tried unsuccessfully to smile.

"Perhaps you could tell us a story from your most recent travels to hearten yourself and us." She smiled back at me and scratched an itch between my shoulders I had not realized was there.

_Perhaps_… I looked around. At some point, Elders Phoenix and Aren had snuck their way to the fireside and had sat down amidst the group. The hunters seemed to have picked up on the fact that I had been asked to tell a story; their conversations had ceased, and they were all peering around the Candle at me.

I thought for a moment, but there was only one event that came to my mind. It was not the heartening story I was expected to tell, but it was the first one to have come, and it seemed inexorably to block out everything else I tried to think of. So, I took in a long, slow breath and began speaking.

…..

"My travels have been enlightening, but at times they have been painful. I would give up the experiences I have gained for nothing, but I have seen things that tear at my heart and draw tears to my eyes. Oppression, hypocrisy, bigotry, suffering, death, and nearly anything else you could think of. Sometimes it is driven by greed, sometimes it is by bloodlust, and sometimes it comes about for no reason at all. And it is these experiences, incidents that occur for no underlying reason or purpose, that tear at me more than any other, because they bare the grim truth of our reality. We are all a part of the same flow of Planet Life, and in the end the direction that life takes is preordained. As much as we may strive to take control over our circumstances, ultimately, what will happen will happen because control is out of reach.

"The experience that comes to my mind as I say this is something that took place high in the mountains of the Northern continent about a year ago. I had passed through the Icicle Inn village a day or two prior and was making my way back down to Bone Village to catch a ferry to Costa del Sol when before me rose a great wall of snow. It was a storm that had kicked up out of nowhere, and before I had a chance to react, it was upon me. The snow was so thick I could hardly see my feet below me, let alone the path forward, but faced with no other options, I plodded on ahead to try to find shelter from the storm.

"I don't know how long I searched or how far I traveled, but neither did the storm let up, nor was I able to find any proper shelter. Thankfully, by the time my nose had gone completely numb and shivering had begun to overpower me, a gray mass appeared in the snow ahead. As I came closer, I could see that the mass was actually a wooden carriage – the kind that might be drawn by a driver and a pair of chocobos. There were no chocobos and no driver, however, and the carriage was turned over on its side. My first thoughts were of using the its interior as a shelter until the storm let up enough for me to continue on, as in addition to my nose, my feet were becoming increasingly unresponsive. As I came closer, however, my thoughts shifted from the comfort of having shelter to wondering about the nature of the carriage. How had it found its way onto its side in the snow? Where were its inhabitants? I could not shake the feeling that something was not quite right.

"Upon reaching it, my suspicions were spurred ever onward. A paw's height of snow had already fallen atop the carriage, but on its walls were streaks of blackness that, the weather being what it was, I could only just distinguish as blood. Gaps in the blanket of snow on top hinted at splintered boards underneath, and one of the axles on the underside had completely snapped. I climbed up to the top of the carriage and used what strength I had in me to open the side door and get myself inside. Closing the door behind me, I dropped down into the cabin. Snow seeped in through the cracks in the hull above me, making me briefly wonder how good a shelter it would be, but those thoughts quickly left my mind as the scent of death hit my nostrils. I examined my surroundings.

"The interior was small enough that the light from my tail lit it well, but it was still large enough that it took me a second to see a little girl, maybe five or six years of age, huddled in the corner opposite me. She had such a striking look of fear and fatigue on her face that I immediately forgot about the cold that had wrapped itself so tightly around my body and asked her if she was okay. Before she answered, I saw what she was huddled over – a woman, probably in her early 30s, dressed in light cloth garb, and, judging by the deep wounds in her abdomen, the pallor in her face, and the scent I'd caught upon entering, obviously dead. I became aware again of my whole body shivering, although at that moment, I was not sure it was from the blizzard outside.

"The girl told me her mother had gone to sleep and would not wake up, to which I had no response. I could only ask if she was cold, and when she said she was, I suggested that she come over and sit next to my tail fire to warm up. As she did so, I saw she was in a very poor state. There were black circles around her eyes, either from injury or lack of sleep, and she was devastatingly gaunt. Even the gait with which she made her way over to me made me worry. She looked like she might break at any moment.

"Night fell with no sign of the storm letting up, and as we huddled together, able to see only by the light of my tail, I attempted to find out from the girl, whose name was Emma, what had happened. She lived in Icicle Inn, she said, with her mother and father in the house behind the 'big hotel.' She and her mother had been bringing skiing supplies up from Bone Village with a family friend when the carriage had come under attack from some sort of large white snow cat. When the cart flipped over, the 'birds,' as she called their team of chocobos, got loose and ran away. Both the girl's mother and the friend had been outside at the time of the attack, and from what I could tell, only the mother had been able to make it into the protection of the carriage's interior. And even that was only after sustaining the injuries I'd seen. The cat left after some time, leaving the fatally wounded mother and her child behind. It had been nearly a week since then.

"Emma did not sleep during that night in the storm, and as time passed she began to look worse and worse. I did not carry any materia with me during my travels at this time, or this would all be a moot point, but as it were, I knew that I had to get this girl back to Icicle Inn as quickly as possible. Dawn broke on the next day with the storm still blowing, although in a slightly diminished state. I ventured outside briefly – just long enough to find a broken supply crate containing a furred coat that I could use to insulate the girl while we travelled. She was too weak to put it on herself, so I helped her into it, loaded her onto my back, and told her to hang on with all her strength before leaving. She asked more than once why we weren't waiting for her mother to wake up to take her along. I did not answer at first, compromising eventually to say that I would come back for her mother after I got her home. So we set out through the snow toward Icicle Inn.

"The weather cleared the longer we travelled, and I could feel Emma's grip lose its strength bit by bit. By noontime, she had become unresponsive to my questions, and by mid-afternoon, it became apparent to me that she would not make it the rest of the way back home. I told her the truth of her mother's death, that she had returned to the planet, to the flow of the Lifestream. Our spirit energy is what keeps the planet alive and healthy, I said, and her mother had returned to that great reservoir of life again to help the planet live on… Emma asked me if she too would return to the planet. I knew the truth, but all I could tell her was that she would someday, but that this was not her day. She did not respond, and some time that evening, she died.

"I continued on silently through the night without stopping, and by morning I had arrived at the Icicle Inn village. I took Emma to the village's doctor, a man with whom I'd become acquainted on my previous visit, and while he tended to her body I went to find her father. He was understandably grief-stricken over the news, as I imagine anyone would be if confronted with that kind of tragedy, so when he asked to be alone after I took him to his daughter, I readily obliged. It was only much later in the day as I was preparing to leave that he approached me outside the inn. With a weak, tired voice, he expressed his thanks for the effort I had made to return his daughter to the village and asked if I could recall about where I had come across his wife's carriage. I told him that I'd stumbled to and from it in the midst of a snowstorm, but that I could give him an approximate location if he were to follow me back. He agreed and offered to house me overnight, a proposition to which, once again, I readily obliged.

"The following morning we set out in another carriage with a crew of three men, two of whom were well armed, along with two chocobos and myself. The carriage itself was packed with food, a few weapons, and other supplies, indicating the villagers' intent to search for more than one day. On the first day, we were unable to find the exact location of the upturned carriage because of how changed the landscape was under the new coat of snow, but I steered them as close as I could remember. The second day we fared no better, but on the third day, we found the wreckage shortly after noon. The man retrieved his wife's body from inside and seemed somehow relieved, even as the tears flowed from his eyes.

"He thanked me again for all I had done and offered me a large sum of gil in return for my help. I told him that I appreciated the offer but I had to refuse. I explained that I had no real need for money, and even if I did, I could not in good conscience accept a reward for doing something that should come naturally to anyone in the same situation. In the greater scheme of life, we are all family, I said, and to take advantage of him in his time of grief would be akin to thievery. He again expressed his gratitude, saying that if I ever happened to be near Icicle Inn again, I would have a place to stay, and departed shortly thereafter with the other two men and his wife to return home.

"I continued on my way to Bone Village, and though my spirits were somewhat dampened by the events of the past week, I was uplifted by the actions I had taken because, as I said, we are all part of a whole, one and the same at its end, and there was some solace to be taken in that. To have helped in whatever small way that I did was my reward, and the experience is one that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. There is so much strife in the world, in the kingdoms of both man and beast, that it can be difficult to bear, but that is one of the greatest things I have learned: No matter how harsh or unfair life can be, no matter how uncontrollable it may seem, it does go on.

…..

It was silent for a moment. From somewhere beyond the Candle, I heard one of the hunters remark to another, "Poor kid," but it was hardly audible over the crackling flames, so I may have misheard or even imagined it.

"Perhaps you can begin to see why it is difficult for me to put into words why I travel, Marcus. The experiences are not always happy ones, but they help me understand our world in a way that no laboratory or experiment could. In a way, these travels are essential to my being, as they are the catalysts that have incited me to live, learn, and grow through the years." Even as I spoke, the same doubts ran through my mind.

From behind me I heard a sudden rush of excited voices. Around the Candle, the eyes of the hunters visibly perked up, and many of them rose to their feet and started making their way toward the sound. I looked over my shoulder to see what was happening and saw Ruger standing in the doorway of the pub signing autographs as the people gathered around him.

"I'm sorry," came Marcus's voice from beside me.

"No need for that," I said, turning my head to him. "I should apologize to you. I made it sound as though the purpose of that story was to rebuke you, when it was not intended as such. It was nothing more than the product of my sometimes troubled mind, and for that I apologize."

Marcus smiled a bit and averted his eyes. "Hey, it's no problem. It takes a bit more than that to get under my skin."

"Good to hear," I replied, somewhat relieved.

I resumed watching Ruger as he signed autographs for the crowd surrounding him. He certainly had his pen strokes down – I'd never seen someone sign their name so quickly and in such short succession. He was a machine. Oddly though, the crowd did not seem to thin out no matter how many signatures he turned out. As it were, the majority of the people did not leave after receiving their autographs, instead floating about just to stay generally close to Ruger. Those who did leave returned immediately to the back of the pack to get in line for another signature.

_That's the power of a name, I guess._

Before long, I caught onto Ruger looking up from his papers periodically to glance in my direction, almost as if he were checking up on me. I was about to get up and go to ask if there was something he needed when he waved off a piece of paper and said, "Alright, that's enough autographs for tonight. Let's all meet over there by our furry friend, and I'll tell y'all about one of the more excitin' bear hunts I've ever had."

He pointed at me as he said it, and the crowd around him obeyed almost reflexively. As they walked, I heard a comment between two of them, much more clearly than the previous comment that was obscured by the crackling of the fire. "Let's hope this one is a little more exciting than the one that the 'furry friend' told, eh?" The two laughed together and joined the rest of the group around the Candle.

Ruger followed the crowd over and sat down, wedging himself in between Marcus and me. "How's it goin'? Nakani, right?" he said to me as he sat down.

"Nanaki. I'm fine." As I spoke I glanced past Ruger at Marcus, who was wide-eyed in shock at having been pushed aside as though he weren't there. "I trust you slept well?" I asked, shifting my sights back to Ruger.

"Didn't do much sleepin', but the room's plenty nice." He looked around, smiling the same open-mouthed grin I'd seen earlier in the day, and then said only halfway to me that "more people stuck around 'n I thought. Standin' room only, hehe." And then to the crowd: "Okay everyone. Let's quiet down some now. If you didn't hear me before, this story's from one of my more in'tresting bear hunts a few years back.

"It was on the plains outside of Nibelheim where this beast made 'is home. One of the rare cases you'll see of bears living outside the protection of the forest, and along with that he'd developed the habit of takin' livestock from the farms in the area. That's how I got on the case to start with. I'd been on 'is trail for almost a month already, just couldn' seem to catch up to 'im. The signs were there, tracks, scat, and ever'thin else, but he always seemed to stay a step aheada me. And the worst of it was he was as bold as ever, still takin' livestock like he didn' even care I was there.

"Now normally I'd jus' lay some scent baits out, set up some snares, 'n wait for paydirt, but there were a few problems with that here. First, you're gonna have a rough go of it tryin' to catch anything on the plains where your target's not limited to one or two trails. Second, Nibel bears are notoriously smart about avoidin' traps, be it snares, live traps, or anythin' else. And in this particular case, the scent baits I'd been usin' didn' seem to be doin' the trick, so eventually it came down to me just gettin' on this bear's trail and not lettin' up till he was in my sights.

"Tracked him all over the place, all day, every day for almost two weeks after I gave up on the scent lures and still had nothin' to show for it, but then one day he made the mistake of shootin' on into the forest. Least ways I thought it was a mistake. That'll usually slow down how far bears travel in a day, so I figured I'd be caught up to 'im in no time. I was maybe two days in the forest before the beast's tracks started overlapping each other, and another day after that I'd lost the trail completely. There was no way that bear had doubled back over 'is path so perfectly on accident, so I figured he knew I was after 'im and was tryin' to cover 'is tracks.

"First time I ever been at my wits' end, that was. I took a bit to think and decided to try puttin' out another round of scent lures and waitin' to see if I could draw 'im in again. So I did that 'n hunkered down in a quick little hide I made for a bit. Musta sat there for twelve, sixteen hours, jus' waitin'. Gotta understand, the animals don't jus' come runnin' once ya put out your bait, so waitin's a part a the game. I didn' really expect anything out of it though. Push comes to shove I knew I'd just lost the game – didn' look like the bear was comin' back. I decided to head back out to the plains 'n head to one of the farms the bear'd been pickin' livestock from, hopefully get another lead there.

"So I was walkin' through the night, about two or three in the mornin', when I started gettin' suspicious I was being followed. Couldn' see jack crap on account of the darkness, though – gets surprisingly dark in the forest at night – but I kept on goin'. Jus' before dawn, I came into a clearing that really made me nervous. Couldn' tell before, but the moon was well on full that night, and it lit the clearing up like the middle of the day. I shook off my nerves and kept on my way out into the clearing, and all of a sudden I heard real heavy, gallopin' footsteps comin' up from behind me. Well I wheeled around and tried to get my rifle up as fast as I could cause I knew it was the bear comin' at me before I even saw it. He was too quick though, and before I could get my aim, he was right up on me. Took one quick swipe at me that hit me across the face, knockin' me flat on my backside and knockin' my rifle clean across to the opposite tree line. I could tell I was bleedin' pretty good – the cut from those claws is what gave me this beauty of a scar over my eye – and it mighta been the end of me except I kept just enough brains in my head to grab at one of these babies—" [he motioned at the pistols holstered around his waist] "—before the bear had a chance to get up on me again.

"I took a look at the bear in the moonlight as I set my aim, and quite honestly I was shocked at just how big he was – prolly the biggest Nibel bear I've ever seen. It was a wonder he hadn' taken my head clean off my shoulders when 'e took 'is swipe at me. There was no time for lollygaggin' though – before I knew it he was chargin' at me again with 'is jaws wide open, so I squeezed the trigger and shot right as he lunged forward. Not the best shot ever, not by far. But it did the trick. Took out one side of 'is jaw and lodged in 'is shoulder with enough force that it staggered 'im off to the side. He let out an ear-piercin' howl of pain and ran back off into the forest, lettin' me alone there in the clearing.

"I gathered myself and got up and went to pick up my rifle by the trees real quick. The blood from the cut on my face had gotten down into my eye, so I only really had half my sight, but I could still see the trail of blood on the ground leadin' off into the night. Bear wasn't gonna get away this time. I followed it a good fifteen minutes before I came to a little cave in the side of a hill. The bear was inside, collapsed on the ground. Looked like he was sufferin' from how hard 'e was workin' just to breathe, so I raised my rifle and shot. Bear'd done some damage to the rifle when 'e swatted it out of my hands earlier though – thing shot almost due left of where I aimed it, so I had to reload 'n re-aim before I was able to put 'im out of 'is misery.

"An' then my job was done. The cut over my eye wouldn' stop bleedin' so I had to leave the bear behind and get back to civilization soon as possible. I stopped off at the main farm the bear'd been plunderin' to let the owner know 'is livestock was safe now, an' evidently I blacked out, 'cause the next thing I knew, I was lyin' in a bed in a clinic in Nibelheim with a pile 'a stitches in my face. Doctor told me the farmer brought me in 'n that I was lucky I still had my eye. Just as lucky to even be alive. Lost more blood than I thought, apparently. Anyways, the farmer'd left a reward of 10,000 gil and a green chocobo he'd bred named Beaker as a reward for killin' the big bad bear, so in the end, it was all worth it."

Ruger paused for just a moment, and then added as an afterthought, "Boy, that chocobo didn' see a good end, but… I guess that's a story for another time, eh?"

Laughter and applause from his fans around the fire were his response. I noticed a clear dichotomy here – the hunters were enthralled, with looks of delight on their faces as they clapped and laughed, while the Cosmo Canyon villagers just looked stunned. Marcus in particular had an unguarded look of disgust on his face.

He opened his mouth to speak, and I could see what he was going to say before he even said it. "So… You maimed and murdered a bear? That's your story?"

"Eh?" Ruger said, more than a little surprised.

"That's heartless," he clarified. Suddenly it was deadly quiet around the Candle.

"Ain't no room for havin' a heart on the hunt, kiddo," Ruger retorted. "Quick way to get yerself killed. Bear didn' have a heart when 'e tried to poke my eyeballs out, did 'e?"

"But that was provoked. You put yourself in that situation."

"Well that may just be, but I'm damn sure I wasn't involved in 'im pickin' off baby chocobos for his dinner week in, week out. You want to talk about heartless? Nature has no heart, kid. Nature is what it is, and it'll rip ya to shreds as soon as spit on ya."

"But—"

"Marcus, that is enough," came Elder Phoenix's voice, cutting him off calmly. "This is not the time for this debate. Perhaps another time."

"But Elder—"

"Another time," he repeated. And this time, Marcus was silent. "My apologies, Nelson," Elder Phoenix said to Ruger. "Our views are somewhat different here in the canyon, but as a guest here you should not have to defend actions which have broken no laws."

"Ain't a problem, Phoenix. Marcus over here idn' the first person to get vocal like that. And 'e ain't anywhere near the most vocal I've seen." Ruger reached out an arm and squeezed Marcus close to him in a jocular manner. Marcus was not quite so amused. The look on his face was flat and angry. "Takes all kinds to make the world go 'round, ya know?"


	3. Return - Morning Star

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! A PDF of the entire first section of the story (three chapters) is available upon request. Just send me a message!

* * *

3. Morning Star

"…So when I didn't get a response from him, I climbed up to check it out, and I kid you not – when I saw him, he was sunk so far down in the bed he couldn't even move. I almost missed him altogether except for his one foot that was sticking up above the covers."

Laughter surrounded me and seemed to reverberate and fill the pub quite utterly. After the minor fireworks around the Candle had died down, the village-wide assembly had dispersed, and a group of us had headed into the pub at Ruger's behest to continue talking. Much to my chagrin, Eian, apparently determined to tell his story, had invited himself along. He sat next to me on my left, Elder Phoenix sat on my right, and a few of the hunters and Ruger had sat down on the opposite side of the table. Drinks were served, and the conversation loosened up almost immediately. Only Elder Phoenix and I hadn't gotten anything to drink, and it was beginning to show.

"No kiddin'," came Ruger's voice from across the table. "The bed swallowed you whole, did it Nak?"

_Nanaki._

"Took the better part of five minutes to get him out. It was the most ridiculous thing I think I've ever seen."

"Well, the bed was built for a human, so I don't suppose you could expect it to hold Nanaki's weight now, could you?" Elder Phoenix attempted to mount a defense for me since I had yet to speak up on my own behalf. And yet, as I looked at him, he too was smiling, amused at whatever image he'd drawn in his mind of me trapped in that bed.

"Still woulda thought you'd notice you were sinkin' in before it got to bein' a problem. Not the most observant fella ever, eh?" Ruger continued laughing.

"Not while I am asleep, no."

"Well, ah'll tell yew what," one of the hunters said to me through a thick, drunken accent. "**Tha's** the kahnd 'a story you needa be tellin' 'round the campfire. S'posed ta be excitin' 'n funny, not about people gettin' killed bah snow cats er li'l girls freezin' ta death."

_The campfire? _I was quickly losing my patience. "I…will keep that in mind." _ You missed the entire reason for the story, you—_

"Ah, brighten up there, Nak," Ruger responded. "S'all just playin' around. Here, lemme buy you a drink. Get a few in yer system, 'at'll getcha in a better mood. Whadya like?"

"Oh, I don't really drink. Don't much care for the taste," I answered.

"Come on, bud, that's a terrible excuse. If ya don' like the taste then jus' do it to loosen up a bit. Seriously, ya look strung up," Ruger argued back.

I thought about it for a brief moment and was about to decline again, but then Elder Phoenix spoke up. "Go on, Nanaki. You've looked unhappy all night long. Let yourself go a bit."

"I…alright. Just get me a…whatever. I honestly don't even know what to try."

An odd smile slid across Ruger's face as I spoke, making me regret my decision to leave the choice to him immediately. "'Ey, that's what I like ta hear. I'll be right back."

He rose from his seat and went to talk to the woman by the bar who mixed all the drinks. I watched closely for any sign of what I'd gotten myself into. Ruger's back was to me, so I couldn't see what he told her, but I could swear I saw the look in her eyes shift from happiness to shock for just a split second as he spoke. I did not have the chance to confirm or disprove my speculation though, as my attention was diverted from Ruger and the bartender by a question asked of me by one of the more inebriated of the hunters.

"So 'ey thur Nak, I gotta ask ya. I never seen anythin' like yew before."

At least I thought it was a question. After waiting for a moment for him to continue, I responded. "I am the last of my species, so that may be the reason why."

"Well… Where'd th' rest of yew go?"

"The rest of my kind were wiped out in the GI War nearly two centuries ago. It's just me now."

"Hmph. Well 'at sucks."

_Really? Really? Is this what Elder Phoenix considers 'letting go a bit?' _"…Yes. Yes it does."

"But then, what's up with yer—"

Ruger's return, drinks in tow, thankfully interrupted the hunter's next question midstream. "Alrighty, Nak. I gotcha a good one." He set two glass cups on the table, one filled with a dark blue drink and the other with a rusty, umber-colored drink, and slid the dark blue one across the table to me. "You need a straw or… like, a saucer or somethin' ta drink that?"

"No," I said flatly. "I can manage on my own."

"Arright then, give it a go. S'called a Morning Star. Tried to getcha a Strange Vision, but they don' got the right stuff here to make it, so this'll hafta do."

"Odd names," I said as I corralled the drink toward me with one paw. I hadn't had cause to keep myself practiced handling glasses or other dishware in the past several years, more than likely since before my last return home, so I was more than a little worried about spilling the drink or otherwise embarrassing myself trying to get it to my mouth. And right after I'd said I could manage on my own too. _Talk about putting your foot in your mouth. Concentrate…_

Ruger picked up his drink and took a sip from it as I stared my drink down. "Ain't gonna bite ya there, Nak," he said jokingly. "Might put some hair on yer chest though."

_Hair on your chest. _I repeated the phrase in my mind without realizing the irony. _Okay, here goes. Get balanced. _I centered my weight over my hind legs. _Get the glass. _I reared up, reached out with both front legs, and pinned the glass between my paws. _Pick it up. _Gripping the glass tightly, I raised it off the table in a slow, rather deliberate motion. I had no idea how closely everyone was watching me. In any case, looking natural wasn't the first thing on my mind. _Bring it home. _Slowly, I brought the glass toward me, careful not to tip it too far in any direction. _Aaaand… drink. _I drew my cheeks forward, pressed the glass to my mouth and tipped both the glass and my head back, slightly at first, and then a little more, and more, until the blue liquid ran from the glass onto my tongue.

The taste was instant, shocking, and overwhelming, as though someone had poured a mixture of dirt, battery acid, and fire into my mouth. I swallowed a small amount of it down, and that act only made the taste worse – my throat convulsed as though I were going to vomit, and I reflexively drew my lips back and stuck my tongue out in disgust. And, besieged as I was, I unintentionally tipped the glass even farther over, pouring a fair amount of the drink directly down my now burning throat. An involuntary fit of hacking, sputtering coughs rattled forth as the liquid hit my trachea, and my entire body seized up in a paroxysm of sudden nausea, tears, and embarrassment. It was all I could do to set the glass back down without spilling the rest of the drink all over the floor. I pounded away on the table with one forepaw and dug into it with the claws on the other in a desperate attempt to fight off the burning and the coughing that racked my body. After a few seconds it began to work, and I became aware of the sound of Ruger laughing from across the table.

"Ahaha, pretty electric, ain't it?" He leaned far back in his chair, just as much in tears as I was. The other hunters at the table had lost their minds with laughter as well.

"Uaagh," was all I could say for a moment after the coughing subsided. I took in a deep breath – the air felt ice cold inside my throat – and spoke in a surprisingly hoarse tone, "I think I made a mess." I could see a spray of the blue drink fanned out across the top of the table, like a miniature explosion, and quite a bit of it on the floor around me as well.

Ruger continued laughing at my remark, adding, "I'm surprised that's all."

I took a quick, self-conscious look around. Essentially all eyes in the pub were on me, some of which were laughing right alongside Ruger, and some of which looked ever so slightly alarmed. I glanced at Elder Phoenix, who showed signs of legitimate concern for me, and then over at Eian, who looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or begin CPR.

_I must really have looked like I was dying. _Through the embarrassment, a hint of humor struck me, though it had decidedly little effect on my mood. I jumped up off my seat and walked away from the table, and instantly Ruger's laughing stopped.

"Aw, come one now, Nak. Don't be a poor sport. I was jus' havin' a little fun," he said.

"Nanaki?" Elder Phoenix called to me in a hushed tone.

I continued on my way past them and stopped when I reached the bartender. "Do you have a washcloth I could borrow for a moment?" I asked her. "I spilled my drink at the table over there. Just want to get it cleaned up before it stains or anything like that."

"Sure thing, hun," she said, smiling as she reached behind the counter, and pulled forth a well-worn strip of fabric. "I wish everyone would clean up their messes so promptly. Here ya go." She handed me the cloth, and as I walked away, she said, "Oh, Nanaki?"

I stopped and turned. "Yes?"

"You've got a little bit of blue right around…" She motioned with a finger, drawing a circle around the right side of her mouth.

"Thanks." Without thinking, I licked at it, refreshing the acidic dirt taste in my mouth. "I'll get that taken care of."

She winked and smiled, and then returned to work. I made my way back to the table and cleaned the mess I'd made as Ruger and the others looked on. And after I was done, I took my seat again and laid the now-blue cloth on top of the table.

"Now then… Where were we?"

Ruger watched me with a puzzled, amused look on his face, almost as if he couldn't believe I'd just taken the time to clean the table. And then he spoke: "Here, try this one. Not as much kick to it."

He tried to slide the umber-colored drink over to me, but I reached out a blue-tinted paw and stopped him halfway across the table. "I think I'll pass."

…..

The night wore on without the conversation at the table taking any notable turns, and eventually the number of people in the bar began to thin out. Eian was the first to go. After having told his story, he had not had much to say, so I assumed his leaving was as much from boredom as it was from fatigue. Elder Phoenix was the next to go, shortly before midnight. He once again welcomed me back to the canyon before he left and told me he would see me in the morning. Not long after that, the group of hunters sitting with Ruger left together, all thoroughly drunk. That left only the two of us – myself and Ruger – sitting at the table opposite each other. A quick look around revealed that we were that last two in the pub altogether, except for the woman behind the counter at the bar.

"So," Ruger began, breaking the silence. "I have a couple questions I been meaning to ask you since we met this afternoon." His voice was markedly different from what I'd heard the entire night to that point. It was somehow deeper, and his accent was almost completely gone.

"What's on your mind?"

"Well, the first question's pretty straight-forward. Just gotta ask. That fire on your tail… That's natural, right? Doesn't it hurt?" He leaned to the side and looked under the table at my tail as he spoke.

"It's natural, and no, it doesn't hurt. It's warm, but not enough to burn."

"Funky… Never seen anything like that before… So anyways… Uh… Next question… What I gather from the way you talk and act, you don't seem like the fighting type, and yet here you are with a whole load of scars and only one workin' eye. What happened to you?"

I took a moment to think before responding and found that I was suddenly uncomfortable. "Well you're right at that. I'm not a fighter – at least not anymore. There was a time when it was a daily routine for me though, and I most certainly picked up some of my scars then. Everything else, well… The world isn't made of pillows and silk. Travelling for as long as I have, some nicks and scratches here and there are expected." I had skipped over the issue of my eye altogether with the hopes that Ruger would move on.

"Travelling eh? You ever have to defend yourself when you're out 'n about? Can't tell you how much ammo I've gone through on the road just to get where I'm goin'. Seems like you'd keep your skills pretty well honed travellin' around on foot by yourself all the time."

"I can defend myself if the situation calls for it, but as I told your friends around the Cosmo Candle tonight, I don't carry materia with me anymore, and only rarely do I carry any weaponry beyond tooth and claw. I am an observer, not an instigator, so when it comes to fighting, I know well enough how to avoid confrontation if it's possible and how to defend myself if it isn't."

"I gotcha. So you got some of those… animal instincts buried in there somewhere then, just tell you what to do when the time comes, eh?"

"I suppose."

"Well that gives me another question, but I'll get to that in a second. In the meantime, let's finish up that last one. What's the story behind your eye?"

"I… It's not something I like to talk about." In truth, it was something I had not actively thought about in a long time, not necessarily because it had occurred so long ago, but because… "Do you know anything about the GI tribe, Ruger?"

"The who? Nah, never heard of 'em."

I had still hoped to gloss over it all, but I could see that it wasn't going to be an option. "They were a tribe of humans that lived near here a long time ago. Savage, warmongering, generally hostile people. They came into conflict with the people of Cosmo Canyon back when I was just a cub – the GI War it was called. I never did learn the cause of the conflict, but suffice it to say, they wanted us gone. And given that they held advantages over us in both weaponry and sheer numbers, we stood little chance against them. This village was our final holdout. Its position atop the canyon's buttes made it easy for us to fortify its borders. Unfortunately, the GI made it into the village through a cave system that runs underground and comes out above us near the kitchen area, and they were able to decimate the village." I paused momentarily, interrupted by a pang in my heart. "My parents… gave their lives to fend off the invading forces long enough to seal off the cave system, but I was injured in the battle. A GI warrior slashed me across the face with his lance and left me for dead. When I came to, my right eye was gone, as was the rest of my species." Even talking about the war so briefly stirred up deep emotions in me. The pang had become a fixed point of pain, and despite my efforts, my mind began to focus on it.

"So you grew up on your own then?"

"…Not exactly. After the war, the humans in the canyon nursed me back to health and essentially adopted me as their own. My species lived in the canyon with humans before the war, so the transition was not as difficult as it could have been. I lived with my grandfather for many years up until he returned to the planet. In that regard, I was lucky I guess." _Lucky?_

"Yeah, but still…Man, that's rough. You got my sympathies. When my daddy died, I thought the world was gonna stop turning, so it's hard for me to imagine what you went through…"

Thoughts of my father flashed into my mind as Ruger spoke. _What I went through…_ I saw the arrows protruding from his back, his proud, defiant stance high atop the canyon's walls, and… I tried to picture his face, but it would not come to my mind. No matter how I tried, I could not see it, and the pang in my heart spiked. _Why can't I see you? Seto…Father… Why can't I see your face? _A sharp shiver ran down my spine and lodged itself firmly in my hindquarters. A feeling of primal dread welled up in me, and I became aware of a slight tremor in my knees. _No…_

"Eh? Nak? You all right over there?"

_What I… _Ruger's words took a moment to process in my head before I could respond. "I… I'm fine. It's Nanaki."

"Ah, sorry about that. I've always been terrible with names. Great with faces, but terrible with names. Could have it written on your forehead and I'd still forget it."

"I… see. I will try to give you some leeway then…" My mind was not on the conversation at that point. I could not stop thinking about this feeling of dread that had arisen when I thought of my father. My own voice sounded distant in my ears, and Ruger's words were merely background noise. The shaking in my knees had increased in intensity, and it felt as though my feet were glued to the floor. _This feeling… What is it that I am feeling?_

"Some people say that's what makes me such a great hunter. I can make a real strong, real accurate mental search image of my prey jus' from indirect evidence. Tracks, food selection, feathers, fur, whatever. Once the picture's in my head, it's there till I got my kill. I never forget a face."

…_Never… for… _The shaking quickly spread into my hips and lower back, and I felt a stinging sensation in my sinuses that made my nose burn and my eye water. "I…I think I need to…" I didn't know how to finish the sentence. The words had started out of my mouth on their own, but I couldn't understand what I was trying to say.

Ruger stared at me blankly for a second. I guessed he could tell something was wrong. "…To what?" And then there was a tone of concern in his voice. "You gotta what? You gotta sneeze? Pee? Throw up? Is that why your eye's waterin' up? You gotta hurl? You didn' even drink anything tonight except that one sip. You got no business throwin' up right now, so quit lookin' so sallow. Plus if you throw up, you're gonna make me throw up too. Nothin' worse than animal barf."

"You…You think…" Ruger was already turned around motioning to the bartender to bring some water to settle my stomach as I spoke. His determined charge down the path toward incorrect diagnosis allayed the feeling inside me for some reason, and for the moment at least, the shaking subsided. The water, though it did not help, was refreshing at least. I still could not see Seto's face, but for the moment, I was not quite so consumed by it. "Thank you," I said after taking a long drink from the glass.

"Feelin' better?"

"I think so…"

"Good. 'Cause if you threw up in here, you were gonna be on your own. That is one thing I just cannot do."

The irony of a hunter who could kill and skin animals for a living but who could not stand the sight of vomit amused me. I may even have laughed vacantly as the thought flipped through my mind.

"You laughin' at me now? That's pretty low comin' from someone who almost gagged on a sip of alcohol earlier tonight."

"I… I'm sorry," I said. "My imagination sometimes gets the better of me."

Ruger grumbled at me. "Yeah, well you make sure to keep that little tidbit under your hat, got it?"

I nodded.

He leaned back and put his arms up over the back of the chair, and for what was the first time I had observed, he seemed to think for a moment about his next course of action. After a moment, he finished up a drink that had been sitting idly by for the past 30 minutes or so and spoke. "Getting' late," he said in a low, oddly level tone. "I gotta be up tomorrow morning to get goin' on this hunt. You should come with me. Make things a whole lot easier for the both of us."

_For both of us? _"I'm not quite sure I get your meaning there."

"I think you do," he said slyly.

I didn't. "Well, regardless, I think I will have to pass this time. If I remember correctly, you're planning on being here for a week?"

"Give or take. I think shorter if we get you out there and test out those 'animal instincts' of yours."

"Sometime before you leave then, absolutely. I just have somewhere I need to go tomorrow."

"Arright then, it's a plan. And hey, let's meet right back here tomorrow night again, eh? Just you 'n me. I got some more things I wanna talk to you about."

"I will try to be back in time."

"Arright. I'ma head upstairs to the inn 'n get to bed then. Good talkin' to ya tonight, Nanak." As he finished speaking, Ruger gave me an odd kind of debonair half-smile, raised his right hand in the shape of a mock pistol and pointed it at me. After a second, he mimicked firing it and then winked at me and rose from his seat. As he walked to the bar to pay his tab, I was left sitting alone at the table wondering if that was just how he said goodbye or if something I did not quite understand had just happened to me.

A moment later, I stood up from my seat, returned my glass of water to the bar, and left for the observatory.

…..

The night was clear and cool, and the moon and all the stars in the heavens above shone down on the canyon as I ascended the steps to the observatory. It was quiet though, and I could not help but reflect on my experiences that night. It had certainly been an interesting return home, but I was somehow bothered by it. Three distinct times I'd had noticeable… 'relapses,' I decided to call them. Moments that I had yielded to dark thoughts the likes of which I had not had in many years. Three times in one day. Why? What had triggered them?

_Is it you, Gilligan? Have you returned from wherever you mercifully went so long ago? _I recalled again the dream of the blackness from that afternoon and shivered. I wished it weren't so, but it quickly became clear to me that this was, in fact, my old nemesis who had returned home along with me and who had dredged up these ancient thoughts throughout the day. I was suddenly beset by anxiety at the prospect of Gilligan's return. _What can I do? Why has it returned now, of all times? What did I do to push it away before? But if it's returned, did I even succeed? What can I do?_

I had stopped walking, I realized, at the top of the stairs just outside the kitchen area and was looking down over the back edge of the village at the distant ground below. The light of the stars and the moon laid a thick yellow-white veil of light over the ground, but it seemed to be shrinking away into darkness. I looked up to see a single thick, round cloud in the sky that had drifted in between the moon and myself, casting the shadow I'd seen over the land. _Perhaps you will pass on your own in the due course of time. _The cloud seemed, as if on cue, to halt its progress across the moon, leaving the shadow blanketed over the canyon. _Perhaps not. _I continued on, watching the cloud until I had stepped indoors by the kitchen, and glanced up again when I reached the top of the ladder to the observatory. _Hm._

Flicking on the lights and closing the door behind me, I found it was still empty inside, save that same strange sense in the air that made me afraid to touch anything. I climbed up to the second floor, distracted both by the uncomfortable feeling and by the troublesome cloud in the sky, and made my way to the collapsed bed, stopping just before I made the mistake of climbing onto it again. Instead I stood listlessly in place, staring at the bed and thinking. _Perhaps a bit of wind is all that is needed to move you along on your way. _Heading back down to the first floor, I decided to stay in Grandfather Bugenhagen's planetarium that night. _Tomorrow_, I resolved, _I will visit my father as soon as I wake_.


	4. Day Trip - The Study of Planet Life

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki's plans are interrupted as he is dragged out to the Ancient Forest on a research trip with Marcus. A pdf of the entire second section of the story, titled Day Trip (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

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Day Trip

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4. The Study of Planet Life

Sleep did not come, however, and the next day as the sun arose, I found myself a dreary, fatigued mess.

The morning light filtered weakly through the windows outside the planetarium, so weakly in fact that I almost did not notice it through the fog in my mind. I did not want to move, but I couldn't pin down exactly why. I imagined for a few moments that the sunlight held some sort of paralyzing power over me, and briefly I honestly thought I wouldn't have been able to move even had I wanted to. But eventually the game was over, and I reluctantly dragged myself to my feet and made my way outside.

The sun was still low on the horizon, casting a diffuse golden light over the canyon. Noise from below led me to the edge of the landing to investigate. I could see five or six people milling around down in the hunters' camp, as well as a small group following someone around. Evidently, Ruger was on his way out for the day as well. The thought crossed my mind that I wouldn't be disappointed if I never saw him again, but no sooner had I thought it than I felt guilty about it. I had no real reason to feel that way as far as I knew, but something in me was cautious, maybe wary of some danger lurking beneath the surface. As with everything else I felt that morning, I was unsure.

Elder Phoenix met me as I descended the ladder to the kitchen area, on his way to breakfast from the looks of it. "Ah, good morning Nanaki. How are you feeling today?" he asked with an almost artificially resplendent smile.

"I'm a bit on the tired side, but otherwise I am well enough."

"Didn't sleep last night?"

"No, not so much. It happens every now and then. You know."

"Ah yes. Yes I do, yes I do," he responded. "I trust it had nothing to do with the Morning Star?"

"The morning star…? Oh…Oh, the Morning Star. No, nothing."

"Good to hear," he said, smiling again. "Not everyone is made for that kind of alcohol unfortunately."

I laughed lightly with him and felt better for the moment. "Listen, I was wondering if I might be able to travel through the GI Caves this morning, make a trip out to the edge of the canyon. Is the door still sealed?" I asked, motioning to the big metal door set in the wall behind him.

"Oh no, it's been many years since there was a need to keep it sealed. There is not much down there anymore that poses a danger save the occasional noxious mushroom, so until they try to invade the village, we're not too worried."

I laughed again. "Well if it's all right with you, I'm going to head down there then."

"Absolutely. Will you be back by nightfall? Mr. Ruger has already expressed interest to me this morning about speaking with you again."

_Ugh_. "Yes, I should be back I think."

"Ok then, take care of yourself today. The caves can still be dangerous, even without the spirits patrolling. And tell your father 'hello' for me."

I bid Elder Phoenix farewell, and as he walked away, I turned to open the hatch leading into the caves. The door swung open, revealing a short path leading to an abrupt ledge and a rope ladder leading downward. It was darker than I expected it to be, exuding an almost palpable unwelcoming impression. A cool, damp breeze bubbled up from the depths and rushed through the doorway, filling my nostrils with a familiar, musty scent that brought back visceral emotions I knew I must have had on my previous trips through the caves.

But had I? …Had I had those emotions before? I felt as though I couldn't remember, as though there were a great cloud in my mind blocking the truth's light from reaching me, and as that imagined image crystallized, the desperation from the night before returned. _Why can't I remember?_ I wondered. _Will this trip help me remember? Will it really? _I stood in my spot for a long moment, staring through the doorway at the point where the rope ladder was staked into the ground, and at the exact moment I lifted a paw to take my first step into the caves, a voice from behind startled me back into inaction.

"There you are!" It was Marcus, a smile on his face and a hiking backpack on his back. "I've been looking all over for you, sir. –Err, Nanaki. Been looking for hours, feels like. Thought you were avoiding me or something. You about ready to get going?"

_Get going? _It took me a moment to realize what he was asking, and when I did, my stomach clenched into a tight knot in my chest. "Oh, to the forest, you mean. Research." I glanced through the open doorway and again back at Marcus. Reluctantly, I responded, saying, "You were going this morning. Sorry, I… slept in… Yeah, let's do it. Leaving now?"

"Soon as you're ready. Were you… uh, going somewhere?"

_I was… Father… _"No, no. I'm fine to go now." I smiled weakly, sure that the fatigue showed on my face, and closed and latched the door into the caves.

"Are you sure? Like I said before, you don't have to come if you've got other things you're doing."

Walking past him toward the stairway outside, I did my best to keep the smile on my face. "It's fine. I'll meet you by the front gate."

"Ok… I'll uh… see you down there."

On the way down the stairs, I found myself absorbed in thought. I wasn't sure if I was angry or relieved that Marcus had followed up on his offer to take me out on his research trip. I wanted to visit my father, but at the same time, I was decidedly anxious about it, perhaps ashamed that I couldn't remember his face. Visiting and seeing him and having to be reminded by him… It was disrespectful to his memory. What would he say? What would I say? Perhaps this short trip would give me a chance to think about it. Or perhaps I was just running away from the problem in the hopes that it would solve itself.

I sat down upon reaching the village's welcome sign, half-leaning against one of the wooden posts holding it up to alleviate some of shaking that had cropped up in one of my forelegs. Eian stood guard nearby, keeping watch on the stairs leading down out of the village.

"G' morning, Nanaki. Sleep well?" he asked rhetorically.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked back to him. Beyond the Candle, I saw the hunter camp, still up and active, some of its inhabitants polishing their rifles, others chatting noisily with each other, and still others already making their way into the pub to start their day with a drink.

"Your face is a little droopy," Eian said, smiling brightly. "You look tired."

"I see…" I paused. _Droopy… _On a whim, I leaned back on my haunches, placed my forepaws on either side of my head, and pulled the skin on my face taut to see if it might help my looks. There was a lot more play in it than I thought there would be, as though it actually were looser on account of my insomnia. With my eyes pulled to slits and the corners of my mouth tugged back so far I felt like I was drooling, I asked, "There, how's that? Better?"

Eian's eyes widened, but he didn't smile as I had thought and hoped he would. "Definitely not as droopy now. Kinda… terrifying."

"Oh." I let go, rolling forward onto all fours, and let my face droop back into place.

"You know your face'll stick that way if you keep doing that, right?" he asked, clearly pleased with his joke.

"Let's hope not," I said, shifting my gaze to the hunters again. "Do you know if Ruger has left yet this morning?"

"Couple hours ago, a bit before dawn."

"Oh… I thought I saw him a bit ago… Must have been someone else. Did he say where he was headed today? I'd like to make sure we don't head through his hunting grounds, keep any accidents from happening."

"Not sure. He turned south on his way out though, so I'd bet he's out across the river in Gongaga country. Where are you headed?"

"Marcus and I are going out to the ancient forest to the east. Should be good then, you think?"

"You and Marcus, eh?" He made a strange face as he spoke that I had trouble making sense of, not like he was surprised **where** I was going, but more that, of all people, I was going there with Marcus. "Yeah, you guys should be fine."

"Good to hear." My mind began to wander a bit as the image of the cloud in my mind reappeared, and although Eian continued the conversation, I found myself mostly uninvolved and giving half-responses to his statements thereafter.

"Staying overnight?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Possibly. It was somewhat short notice."

"Yeah, doesn't really surprise me. Marcus isn't really good about planning ahead of time. He probably didn't even know he was going before he asked you."

"You don't say?"

"Yeah. Just between you and me, I don't think the research is going all that great for him either."

"How's that?"

"Well, all I ever hear from him are the problems he's having, how there's holes in his data, and he doesn't have enough sampling, and his machines are broken and he can't afford to fix them. Never anything positive or constructive. No 'so here's what I found out,' or 'really interesting results here,' or anything like that."

"That's how it goes sometimes."

"Yeah, well you ask me, the kid's not built for research. Got a good question, but he just can't figure out how to go about finding an answer for it."

"I see. Well we'll see how it goes."

"Reminds me a bit of …" And Eian continued on. I caught little or none of it.

Marcus was down in the next few minutes, pack still on his back, with a sizeable plastic tank in either hand. "Sorry about that," he said, slightly out of breath for some reason. "You ready to hit the road?"

"I am. I've just been speaking with Eian. What's in the tanks?"

"These?" he asked, holding one of the two up for me to inspect. "Just water. Humidity's really bad in the forest, and I sweat more than you would believe in there. Gotta stay hydrated."

"I see. You look pretty weighed down. Anything you need help carrying?"

"Nope, I should be good. Already made this trip a couple times, so I've got it all planned out."

"Well okay then. Let's get going."

The two of us said goodbye to Eian and descended the stairway out of the village, and as we cleared the last step and turned east toward the forest, a strange sense of relief washed over me. I shot a quick, guilty glance over my shoulder back at the stairway and then over at Marcus, half-expecting to see the scornful face of someone who had noticed my relief berating me, but to my surprise, it appeared I had gotten away with it. The relief faded after some time, but the guilt remained.

En route, the same awkward silence between Marcus and me that I'd observed around the Candle the night before persisted, punctuated by idle statements about the weather and this and that. He asked the standard questions I always seem to get – what happened to my eye, why my tail was on fire, and if it hurt – and I gave my standard answers to each, which at this point had become an almost recited routine. Given that one of the first things Marcus had ever said to me was how much he had heard about me, I was surprised he didn't know the answers to his questions already, but nonetheless, I recited my answers. The one unique question that he asked, and that I could not answer adequately, was what it was like to be an animal. I imagined at first he expected an answer about being covered in fur, but as soon as I started to answer, he rephrased the question in a way that left me stumped – it was not so much what it was like to be an animal that he wanted to know as it was what it was like not to be a human. Having never been a human for any length of time, I found I could have no answer and was instead left to wonder.

To be fair, my mind was not with me, although I couldn't say exactly where it might have been instead. I was preoccupied with my father, with Gilligan, with Ruger and the whole situation involving the hunters. The incident with the Morning Star came back to my mind, and I felt the acidic taste in my mouth again, saw the blue spray erupt into a sparkling fine mist before me, heard the laughter from all around, echoing in my ears. I remembered the trembling that overtook me as I spoke to Ruger, and as Marcus and I walked onward, I felt a growing weakness in that same leg, an unsteady weariness in the muscles that pulsed with every step I took. The silence between us broadened, and the numbness became all I could focus on. I watched my leg passing back and forth underneath me, time after time, and wondered why that leg should so consistently be the one that shook. Had it been that leg the last time too? And because the silence between us dragged on uninterrupted, my mind remained there, watching and wondering.

Mercifully, we made good time, arriving around midday at the outskirts of the forest. The red rock of the canyon abruptly disappeared beneath a layer of lush green grass, and the weakness in my leg seemed to subside. Ahead of us, tall, thick trees rose up, clustered so densely together and throwing out so many gnarled lateral branches that they seemed to converge into one continuous wall of bark. It was like the forest had purposely laid them there as its first line of defense, a shield against the outside.

Marcus stopped for a moment to dig through his backpack and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Want to take a look? We're here at the northwest edge of the forest," he said pointing at a spot near the corner of the paper. A map. "These green blotches? They're the Lifestream upwellings I've been researching. Kind of a series of them running up the spine of the forest, and then another series along the southern edge." He drew corresponding lines on the map with his finger as he spoke.

"I see. Why are these upwellings circled?" I asked, pointing out several pools scattered around the map that were circled in red ink.

"Places I need to visit. Collect data, that sort of thing."

"There are quite a few of them," I noted.

"Yeah… The problem with cheap equipment is that it breaks – especially in all the heat and humidity of the forest. And the problem with broken equipment is that it means a lot of lost data. So, a few of those spots are places I've already been, and I just… I have to go back and do it all again."

"I see…"

"Kind of depressing when you think about it. You spend all this time collecting data and copying it down into a recorder, and then all of a sudden it's all gone, and there's nothing you can do about it. Just makes you want to scream."

"You can't afford higher end equipment?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, no. Looked into a few of the better quality water chemistry test kits out there. Some of the higher end kits run upward of 5000 gil per kit. Can you believe that price? I mean, it's all the same types of tests as the cheaper kits, but it's just ten times the price."

"Makes it tough, I'm sure."

"Yeah, it's a wonder those companies don't run themselves out of business."

"So where are we headed?"

Marcus didn't respond, seeming to be deliberating that very question in his mind. "Well I figure since I'm just kinda showing you what I do, we can cut this one a bit short, not hit quite as many spots as usual."

"I don't mean to impede you."

"No, no, it's no problem. I have these two spots in mind for now," he said, pointing first at a circled upwelling near the center of the forest and then at another one a bit farther south. "Two of my 'lost data' points. Shouldn't be too much of a problem. There's a third spot in between the other two I need to make a quick stop at too. Kinda…forgot to take a reading there last time…"

"Oh yeah?"

Marcus lowered the map a bit and leered at me briefly. "It…happens sometimes."

I made an attempt to smile at him in the hopes of downplaying it. "Shall we get going then?"

"Sure," he said, folding the map back up. "There's a break in the trees up ahead we can head in through. Best path toward the center of the forest."

Stepping through the break in the trees was like stepping into another world altogether, one cast entirely in greens and yellows and ochres and umbers. Everywhere I looked… The way the light filtered through the trees, casting shafts of light and shadow through the air… The pristine scent of the place, simultaneously sweet and musty, quite similar to the Sleeping Forest near Bone Village, I realized. Sounds, both strange and wonderful, edged in all around us – droning insects, croaking frogs, singing birds, a veritable symphony of wildlife. Rather incredible.

But Marcus was right – the heat and humidity were overpowering. Not a few steps through the trees, I couldn't help but start panting. I've never been great with excessive heat, but this was nearly unbearable. Marcus didn't seem to be doing much better. By the time I'd started panting, he had already coated himself in sweat. It looked miserable, and even though I had my own panting to deal with, it made me thankful for not being human.

"Sweat glands are a pain, aren't they?" I asked between pants.

"More than you know," he responded.

"Well…" I said a few seconds later, "At the very least you aren't covered in fur. That's something."

Marcus laughed quietly. "You are right at that."

The path forward was relatively clear of debris, almost as though the forest had been beaten back out of the way to make room for us. Save for the occasional stray tree root intersecting the path and a very few snakes that I spotted coiled up at ground level, there was little to worry about. I was surprised at how wet everything was, especially given how dry the canyon was by comparison. The leaves of the trees on either side of us glinted like gems in the sunlight as we passed, and more often than not, the ground consisted of a viscous, earthy mud that gave way under my footfalls and found its way up into every crack and crevice of my paws. It didn't take long before my legs, bangles and all, were coated in enough mud that I felt noticeably weighed down. There was no sense in trying to avoid it though – the mud was so prevalent that it was an impractical effort at best and an impossible one at worst. After around 30 minutes of slogging along with Marcus, I brought the subject up.

"It's much wetter than I would have thought in here."

Marcus was drenched from head to toe, I realized, the sweat having visibly soaked through most of his shirt and pants, and when he spoke, I surmised that he assumed I was referencing his appearance rather than anything else. "What, did you think I was joking about the humidity?"

"No, I mean it's just literally wetter than I would have thought. The mud, the dew, everything."

"Oh… Well yeah, it is kinda weird to find habitat like this in the middle of the canyon, huh? When I first started, I was more surprised that there was so much ground water and so many Lifestream pools here. Whole forest is way above sea level, and there aren't any springs anywhere else around here to feed the pools. Kind of a mystery."

"Is that part of what you're researching?"

"No, not so much. I'm just looking at the biodiversity angle of things. Might be a question to look at down the line though, assuming I ever get this project done."

"Yeah, I imagine all that broken equipment makes it tough."

"Yeah… I mean… That's not the only problem, but it's one of the big ones."

"What else is there?"

"Well… I guess… I mean, I'm not exactly mistake proof. Elder Nadil has told me that research is as much about making mistakes as it is about answering questions, just as long as you learn from where you went wrong. So as I've been going along, I've been modifying my procedures, changing how I take my measurements, things like that. Problem becomes how you compare data that you've collected in different ways. You know, maybe the way that you do it affects the results you get, something that. So if some of the data I have is more accurate or less accurate than other data, how do I compare that? How do I know which data is the 'good' data?"

"Well, that's part of the process, figuring out how to do it better for the future. Mistakes are inevitable."

"Yeah, but I just worry about it. I mean, I'm using real money here. My money. And funding from the village's Planet Life program. It isn't a bottomless pile, you know? How much is bad data worth?"

"You feel like you're wasting your money?"

"I'm more worried about wasting the village's money to be honest."

"I wouldn't worry. I'm sure the elders have more important matters to concern themselves with." As I completed the sentence, I hesitated, midstep, for just an instant, realizing that perhaps I had not phrased what I had intended to say particularly well.

Several seconds of awkward silence from Marcus was my response. Sweat rolled down and dripped from the end of his nose as he trudged on through the mud next to me.

_Probably would wipe his face if he weren't holding those water tanks. Or if he had any dry clothing to wipe it with… I really should be helping him carry his things._

We arrived at the first Lifestream upwelling in the next five minutes or so. Marcus dropped the tanks against a nearby tree and offloaded his backpack near the shoreline. "Alrighty," he said to himself as he began digging down toward the bottom of the pack. "So you notice anything just looking in the pool, Nanaki?"

I took a few steps forward and dropped my gaze to take a look. The first thing I noticed was the shade of the liquid in the pool, a dull green, not opaque and luminous like the Lifestream should be, but rather a dreary, clear shade of green. I could not see the bottom of the pool, and although I could tell there was some sort of current in the depths, it was too dark to guess anything about it – speed, direction, turbulence, or anything else. "The color's off," I said.

"Yeah, yeah it is."

"That's strange. I've never seen anything like that before."

"Yeah. Most of the pools in the forest are like this." Marcus pulled a tackle box – the kind a human might use for fishing – out of the bottom of his pack and opened it. "It's a mixture of the Lifestream and ordinary water."

_That would explain why it's so transparent._

"Seems like there's a kind of succession of events that takes place," he said, pulling a long, coiled up, multicolored string out of the tackle box. As he spoke, he set about unwinding the string and fastening a large weight to one end of it. "The Lifestream seems to invade new areas through ground perfusion first. Usually there's some sort of focal point that the invasion centers in on. Results in upwellings like this one. After the initial invasion, there's a sharp increase in plant life surrounding the focal point. Lifestream's at peak concentration. Animal life follows the plant life, and over the course of time, fresh water replaces the Lifestream until it's all that's left."

"Strange behavior."

"Well, not so much if you think about it. There's still a lot of questions, like where the fresh water comes from or why the Lifestream picks up and leaves after a while, but to me, it's pretty obvious what the overall process is doing. It's an infusion of spirit energy to promote an increase in biodiversity." Marcus finished tying the weight to the string and stepped up to the edge of the pool. Slowly he lowered the weight into the water and began feeding the string downward, bit by bit, in a carefully measured manner.

"Yes, but… how are these focal points chosen? They can't just be random, right? And the Lifestream can't just…spontaneously produce life. It doesn't work like that. How does it stimulate biodiversity?"

"Give me a sec," Marcus half-responded to me, obviously absorbed in his work.

On careful examination, I saw that the color of the string he was so carefully lowering changed at regular intervals as it passed from his hands, first red, then orange, then yellow, then green, all the way through the spectrum. _A measuring system. He's counting._

The words came silently from his mouth – _seven, eight, nine – _and for a long few minutes, all that could be heard was the cacophony of birds and insects singing in the trees above us. Marcus continued to feed the string into the water, and the weight continued to fall, keeping the string taut in his fingers.

I sat down in my spot and continued to watch, counting off the colored demarcations in my mind alongside Marcus. Somewhere in between 25 and 30, I drifted away, and my gaze was drawn upward into the canopy. High above I spotted a structure hanging from one of the trees, vertically elongated and with a rounded underside. One of the forest's truly unique sights – a giant pitcher plant.

"It's definitely still a problem," came Marcus's voice. The string had slackened in his hand when I glanced at him, indicating that the weight had reached the bottom of the pool. He wrote a number in a small notepad he'd produced from his pocket, but I was unable to make out what it was. "Not to say there isn't an answer, but it still is a question. I guess to some degree, I'm looking at the more superficial elements – the results of the Lifestream's actions, not the causes."

"I understand… There's always more to learn. Something deeper. Always another way of looking at it."

"Yeah, well…" Marcus set to work pulling the string back up out of the pool. "The cool thing about it is that it's a continuous process. So if you take a map of an area, like the one I have of the forest, and you chart out all the upwellings, you get this pattern where the highest concentration of the Lifestream is around the edges of the forest and the lowest is in the center. Newer at the edge, older in the middle."

"Interesting…"

"Yep. Water here is almost colorless, so you know it's an older upwelling. Start to take a look at the forest as a whole, and you can come up with a bunch of questions, like where the epicenter of the infusion originally was, or whether the forest is still expanding, what the rate of expansion is. Lot of cool stuff."

"What sort of time scale are we looking at here? How long does it take for the Lifestream to be completely replaced?"

"Couldn't tell you," Marcus responded, pulling the last of the string from the pool along with the weight tethered to its end. "Hoping that this data will tell me that the longer I collect, but I've never been good with numbers. More of a qualitative person, you know?"

I had to laugh a bit at his comment. "Me too. I completely understand."

"Yeah… Truthfully, not even sure if I'm collecting the right kind of data to figure that out, but either way, it's some kind of statistics I don't even know how to start looking at."

I watched with a smile on my face as Marcus removed the weight and wrapped up the string, wondering if perhaps that was the first real connection I'd made with him on this trip, our shared contempt for mathematics. Grandfather had given me a basic education on the subject growing up, covering addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, algebra, geometry, and trigonometry at various times, but as his lessons progressed into the more abstract of mathematical concepts – derivatives, integrals, statistics, and the like – my abilities and my interest waned. I had always been much more interested in the sciences, natural history being first and foremost. And I suppose that was only natural, being a beast and having grown up in the canyon. There were times I wished my knowledge of mathematics was more complete, but given that natural history is more descriptive and less concerned with numbers, I saw it as no great loss overall. Perhaps Marcus felt the same way.

"Wish I did though," he said in perfect rebuttal to my thoughts. "Math underpins everything we see. Definitely think if I could wrap my brain around it, I'd be a better scientist, but…" He finished wrapping the string and set it down in the grass next to his pack. "You want to help with this next set of tests?"

"Sure," I said, slightly disappointed that we had not connected as I'd thought. "What do you need me to do?"

Water chemistry. It was how Marcus quantified the chemical composition of the water in the pools, and I suppose indirectly how he determined the concentration of the Lifestream in the water. To begin, he had me grab a metal box from his pack and bring it to him. Inside were two glass jars for holding water and countless packets of powders to be used in various tests. Flipping through them, I saw tests for oxygen levels, nitrate levels, CO2 levels, and so on and so forth. There were also a few test tubes and a machine Marcus called a photometer – or something like that. I wasn't too clear on how it worked, and I'm still not clear on it today. Something about the machine reading light passing through a liquid differently based on what is in the liquid. The way Marcus explained it to me, if he put water from the pools into a test tube and put that tube in the machine, it would give a different number result based on how concentrated the Lifestream was in the water. I took him at his word.

Together we started sampling the water in the pools, and following Marcus's instruction, I ran all of the different tests available to me. They seemed fairly straight forward – collect water, put in vial, empty packet into water, mix it all together, and get results. I did have some initial difficulty handling the equipment, resulting in one or two dropped and broken test tubes, but eventually I got the hang of it and started getting my results – that is to say, I basically made the water change color.

Sometimes, the idea was to make a judgment call on how much the color changed, sometimes it was a decision on what color the water changed to, and sometimes any change at all was the desired result. For one or two tests, a more specific answer was required, and in those cases the photometer was used. Of course, Marcus double-checked my results with his own samples afterwards, but if I recall correctly, everything I got was similar to what he got. And after each test, everything was copied down into his notebook. It took a few hours and a couple dozen packets of powder, but we eventually made it all the way through. I can't say I particularly enjoyed the tests, but they were a welcome distraction, keeping Gilligan at bay and keeping my mind off the subject of my father for a fair chunk of the afternoon.

Once Marcus had everything recorded, he cleaned up, congratulating me on a job well done, put the tackle box and the chemistry kit away in his pack, and pulled out a number of long plastic rods which he hastily began assembling. Once it was all put together, it resembled some sort of large black frame in the shape of a square. I was perplexed.

"Pick two numbers between one and three hundred sixty," Marcus said.

"What? …Why?" I asked in response.

"Bearings, from due north."

It didn't even remotely answer my question, but I gathered it had something to do with that plastic square. "Okay then…" I thought for a short moment and then chose my numbers. I remember thirteen was one of them, for obvious reasons, but I have forgotten the other over the course of time.

And then Marcus went to work. It took a bit of watching and an explanation from him before I fully understood what was going on. "So this is a biodiversity test. Basically, I put this square down on a random plot of land and then do a couple measurements – percent ground cover, number of species of plant and animal, soil type, and canopy cover in the area around that site."

"I see. And the numbers?"

"Like I said, bearings from due north. It's for sample site selection." He could see I still didn't quite get it, so he continued on. "For instance, you chose thirteen, so we turn thirteen degrees from north, head about twenty steps out from the upwelling, and drop down the frame."

A number of questions developed in my mind. Why twenty steps? Twenty steps from where? How random is it if I chose the site myself? It all seemed arbitrary.

As though he had read my mind, Marcus answered my last question, and although it didn't relieve my concerns, I was nonetheless impressed. "I know that it isn't really random having you choose, but I just wanted to get you involved. Figure it's random enough if you don't know why you're picking a number."

Deep down, I felt a knot tighten a bit in my stomach. _Random enough? That can't be right._ I said nothing.

Nonetheless, that's how we did it. Marcus pulled out a compass, found the proper direction, and we took our twenty steps – forty for me, I suppose – and then we tossed the frame onto the ground and knelt over it to start counting species. Rather, Marcus started counting species, as I was unfamiliar with the plants encompassed by the black square. I watched him work, and slowly a realization dawned upon me, manifest as a yawn that I had to swallow back down. As intriguing as I had found the prospects of learning about Marcus's research at the outset of the trip, seeing how one went about measuring biodiversity in this forest, now I found myself rather…

_Underwhelmed? Is that the word? Disappointed perhaps. Maybe… bored. _ Yes, that was it. The lowest descriptor I could think of for the situation, and it was the most truthful one I could come up with. I was bored. Marcus counted his species, and I watched him quietly, unengaged and unsure how to proceed. _Bored… _It wasn't exactly as though I didn't want to be there, although I did sense a growing restlessness in my legs. I just… Somehow, this was not what I had envisioned it to be. Here all around us was this massive forest, teeming with life, and in the hours since we had arrived, we had done nothing but stare at different colors of water and look at a plastic square. This wasn't right… This couldn't be right…

Marcus continued counting over the plastic frame for several more minutes, stopping a few times to closely examine plants that may have looked similar to others he had already counted. My interest was gone, but he forged ahead, and eventually, my attention was drawn by the sound of his pencil scratching away in his notebook.

"There's a pattern here too," he said without looking back at me. "At least one, probably more. The number of species in a given count is correlated both to the distance from and concentration of the Lifestream in the nearest upwelling, but it isn't quite how you might think. You can see pretty plainly from the bare ground surrounding the upwelling that the count is low at low distance. It's also relatively low at long distances. Seems like it peaks right around twenty steps away. Strange, huh?" He paused to allow time for a response.

I didn't respond for a long moment and then mumbled, "Hm," in as interested a manner as I could muster.

"And believe it or not, the highest species counts are in the interior of the forest, where the Lifestream concentration is falling, not at the edge of the forest, where it's at its peak. I don't claim to understand it, but that's the way the results have looked." He took a few seconds to finish writing in his notebook, hastily asking me at one point, "How much canopy cover you estimate?"

"Canopy cover?"

"Like from here, what percentage of the sky is taken up by trees?"

"I don't really see any sky."

"Alrighty… 100% then." Marcus wrote the number down, and as he did, an enormous drop of sweat fell from his nose, landing squarely in the middle of the pad and wetting the paper down in a large radius. He was drenched, head to toe. His clothing was just as drenched. Even his notepad looked to be drenched, the sheets of paper wavy and warped and discolored by his perspiration.

_How uncomfortable… _It was so bad that I, having successfully suppressed my panting for the majority of our time at the upwelling, couldn't help but start up again at the sight of him.

"Think we're just about done here…" Marcus said, trying in vein to wipe his forehead with an already-saturated forearm. "Just gotta get the second spot taken care of for this species count really quick, and then we're done with this upwelling."

Marcus worked his magic again, leading the way to the second sample spot, and threw the frame down into the grass.

"This is it then?" I asked.

"Yeah," he responded, and for a moment, we both stood in our spots, awkwardly and perhaps expectantly silent. "Why don't you take care of this one?" he asked at last. "Thinking I've sweated out just about all the water in me at this point. Gonna go grab a drink from the tanks and take a quick break for a bit."

_Oh great. _"I'm not sure that I know the plants here well enough," I turned and called to him.

He had already begun walking away, and called back, "Do your best," in an automatic sort of tone. "I trust you."

I wasn't sure he had fully heard me. Perhaps I **hoped** he hadn't fully heard me. "Are you sure that's wise? If I count incorrectly…" Inwardly, I hoped he would change his mind but a nagging anxiety told that he wouldn't.

"Just get it close. You can do it, Nanaki." He was already back to the two water tanks, unscrewing the lid on one of them to take a drink.

I turned back to the black frame lying innocuously in the grass and again felt my stomach tie itself in knots. I was equal parts nervous and disappointed, I couldn't understand how my untrained eye and incorrect results could possibly be a benefit to his research. Moreover, this was something I had zero interest in doing. But under the veil of the creaking insects and the singing birds, and the sounds of Marcus gulping down water, I began my count.

Color of leaves, shape of leaves, size of leaves, presence or absence of hairs on the leaves, orientation of leaves, how many leaves per plant, flower characteristics, scent, and so on, and so forth. When I first began, everything looked the same as the thing next to it, and for a time, my anxiety was more than confirmed. But slowly, as I continued on, patterns started to emerge. I am still confident that my count was nowhere near correct, but after some time, I was able to make decent headway.

The hardest part was keeping my focus. The boredom was palpable. I drifted away into other thoughts as I worked, and as a result, when my mind returned to my work, I had to question whether I had already counted certain individual plants and species or not. To say it was tedious would be an understatement. And evidently, I was just as slow at it as I thought, as by the time I had begun to approach the end of the process, I became aware of the forest around me getting darker.

"About done over there, Nanaki?" Marcus called out to me from his back. He had lain himself out in the grass shortly after slaking his thirst at the beginning of my count. Honestly, I thought he had fallen asleep some time ago. "Starting to get dark out."

"Nearly there," I called back over my shoulder to him, slightly annoyed at the distraction. "Don't bother me. I'll lose my count." No response. Almost immediately, I regretted my choice of words. Had I offended him? _Perhaps if I'd just asked him to give me a moment to finish. That would have been better. _I noticed that the insects and birds had quieted down quite a bit since earlier, and in their place was an uncomfortable, stagnant silence. "Not to say that you're bothering me. I just don't want to have to start this over again when I'm so close. …Sorry about that."

"You're good. Lemme know when you're done. I'll just be sweating profusely over here."

I forced a laugh out. "All right then." In any case, I was quite ready to be done with this. _Now, where was I? _The same knots tied themselves into my stomach, ushering in a tangible feeling of dread that overcame me almost instantly. _Where was I? Oh no… Was it… 26 or… maybe 29? _All manner of numbers danced in my head and evaded my grasp, chief among them a two bouncing in place and a six turning end over end, relentlessly mocking me. I unsuccessfully grappled with thequestion for nearly a minute. _How long have I been doing this? _It felt like it had been hours. _Can I start again? _I knew in my gut that it was far too late to begin again. _Maybe I'll split the difference and minimize the potential error… _But I realized that would have set me at 27.5 species counted, and I could not envision a way to vouch believably for half a species.

The inanity of my ultimate decision was astounding, regardless, and looking back I realize that I somehow justified abandoning several solutions that were based at least partly in logic and reason in favor of one that had no logical rationale whatsoever. I chose to go with 26 species, as that would be twice thirteen, the number of the tattoo on my shoulder. And that was that. I began counting again, and before long, had completed my survey of the ground encompassed by the plastic frame.

I was not filled with the sense of accomplishment one might have expected when I stood up and said, "Done," to Marcus. It was instead a rather hollow emotion that I felt, likely a mix of relief at being finished and uncertainty both in regard to how well I had done the job and what purpose it had served in the first place.

"Great!" Marcus replied. "What'd you come up with?"

I hesitated briefly before saying, "Thirty three species."

"Awesome," he said, writing the number down in his journal.

"So what's next?"

"Next…" he began, finishing writing in and shutting his journal, "We need to head to that middle collection point. You remember? The one I said I forgot the measurement at when I was here last?"

"Do you think we'll make it before dark?" I asked.

"Gonna be close, but dark or no, I think we can get there tonight. I've got a pretty powerful headlamp in my pack, and I imagine you have some decent nighttime eyesight?"

"Decent enough. As long as you'll be okay, I'm fine with continuing."

"Let's get moving then."

Marcus collapsed the black frame and placed it back in his pack, and a moment later, headlamp fastened over his forehead and pack slung over his shoulders, we set off again. And it was a good idea for Marcus to have brought out his light, as even before darkness had fully set in, the canopy of the forest limited visibility severely. Dull greens, blues, and purples, shadows all, stretched out around us and blended into one another as the light failed. I had to concentrate to see in front of me, even after the headlamp was switched on.

As it turned out though, the primary reason for that was that Marcus's head and eyes were quite regularly tilted upward, headlamp beam sent shining through the leaves and branches above, possibly searching for something, possibly just wandering aimlessly. At one point, I almost said something to him, even if only to help me find my own safe path ahead, and almost on cue, Marcus's foot caught on a firmly embedded tree root, and his light fumbled around wildly and winked out as he fell on his face in the dark.

I had a good laugh at the situation, after checking to see that he wasn't injured, of course. Easy to break a finger or an arm if he had landed wrong, especially with all the equipment he was carrying. Thankfully though, his pride was far and away his worst injury from the fall.

"You know," I began, helping him back to his feet, "My Grandfather told me once that looking up too much makes you lose perspective. Probably not meant as literal advice, but you might take heed."

Marcus laughed meekly. "Probably couldn't hurt. I seem to have a penchant for being clumsy though. Kinda like it's bound to happen, one way or another."

"I see… What were you looking for up there anyways?"

"Erm, nothing…" he replied, dusting himself off, even though the dirt he had fallen into was more or less glued to his skin by sweat. "I mean… it's kind of stupid."

"Oh yeah?"

He picked up the water tanks and considered his next words as we began walking again. The path ahead was much brighter now, evidence that he had learned from his mistake. A smile drew across my face as I resisted the urge to say something about it to him.

"You seen the pitcher plants in this forest before?" Marcus asked at last.

"Yes, I have. Saw one earlier today."

"Pretty enormous, eh?"

"They are."

"Nature's an amazing thing. How it can produce a carnivorous plant, much less a species big enough to swallow a man whole, is mind-blowing. …Know anything about the pitcher plant arms race going on here?"

_An 'arms race?'_ "I can't say that I do." I had been up close to the plants in the past, but I admittedly knew little about them.

"Interesting little story. There's two different groups here in the forest, one that feeds primarily on frogs, and one that feeds primarily on crickets. Both types are adapted for their prey, and both prey species are adapting to escape their predators. The frogs in this forest are incredibly toxic if eaten, so what do you think has happened with the pitcher plants?"

_What has happened? Is this a quiz? _"…I can think of a few things that might happen. The toxin kills the pitcher plant, the plant develops resistance to the toxin… I don't know. I guess if the plant catches the frog, it either dies or it doesn't."

"That's true. And there are a few species that have developed resistance to the toxins. I read an account that the frog toxins have become more potent as a result of this resistance – that's the arms race I was talking about. The plant becomes more resistant, and the frog becomes more toxic. But that's not the coolest thing. Some of the insectivorous plants have developed projections on the inside of the pitcher that allow frogs but not insects to climb back out if they're caught. Some other species have even evolved a kind of gag reflex over the years. Basically if a frog falls in, the plant will vomit it back out…vigorously. Kind of an explosive expulsion of the toxic little buggers. Isn't that bizarre?"

A flood of memories came back to me as he spoke, and I found I couldn't help but smile a bit. "Powerful enough to launch a person a fair distance in the air, actually. …I had a friend once a long time ago, really interesting person, who knew about that. Actually used those 'expulsions' as a means of transportation. He could get just about anywhere he wanted in this forest that way."

"Seriously?"

"From the ground to the canopy, and everywhere in between."

"That's…impressive, I guess. A little strange that he would think to try that in the first place, but… impressive nonetheless."

"He was a strange individual to be sure… Had a unique way of going about things. I never could quite tell what he was going to do next." The smile persisted well into the silence that followed, as I was once again lost in thought, reminiscing fondly about the past.


	5. Day Trip - Dichotomy

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki's interactions with Marcus begin to show him that his studies of Planet life may not have carried him along the path he thought he was traveling. A divide is identified, and Nanaki wonders on which side he stands. A pdf of the entire second section of the story, titled Day Trip (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

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5. Dichotomy

We arrived at our campsite in the next ten to fifteen minutes, just as night fully overtook us. No moonlight penetrated the canopy above, so I could see very little beyond the broken circle of foliage illuminated by Marcus's headlamp. Water in the upwelling ahead of us glinted black, like oil in the night, and I could hear its unseen ripples lapping softly against the land where it fell away into the depths. The fond memories I had immersed myself in had faded away with the last of the daylight, giving way to a kind of dull emptiness inside of me. Despite the happiness I had felt at remembering my old comrades, all I could think about now was the fact that they were gone.

"Alrighty, let's get this tent up." Marcus dropped his pack to the ground, and the forest went dark as he buried his light inside to find his tent.

I sat and waited silently, watching the darkness where I heard the water's ripples, but as the sounds of Marcus rummaging through his pack continued on and on, my attention was drawn to him. "Everything okay?"

The search increased in intensity over the course of a few moments, and then stopped as he abruptly raised his head from his pack and sat down in a stony-eyed heap. "I can't find the tent," he said flatly.

"Did you forget to pack it?"

"Could have sworn…" He trailed off and his gaze became distant as he thought back through the process of packing before the trip.

"Seems like a tent would take up most of your bag… Kind of hard to miss."

Silence.

"…So it's really not there?"

Silence.

I struggled to come up with a response. It was obvious that it frustrated him, but it was hard to tell in the darkness if he was truly upset or just embarrassed. "Well don't worry about it too much. Mistakes happen. And I think spending one night under the stars—" Glancing upward, I realized the folly of my statement. "—Or the trees won't hurt you. I've been doing it for years, and aside from a few bug bites, I've turned out fine."

Silence for a moment, and then, "Ugh, I was really looking forward to that tent too."

I laughed, though I found little humor in the statement. "Well if you gather some wood, we can make a fire anyways. Keep some light and heat on us in case it gets cold tonight."

The air had already cooled considerably. I myself was still comfortable, but I gathered that Marcus, in his dirt and sweat-laden clothing, might be a bit chilled.

"I'll get started finding some wood now if you'd like to take a moment first and change clothes."

Marcus glanced over at me, blinding me momentarily with the beam from his headlamp, but even with a paw raised to block his head out of sight, I could infer from his silence and the way the light stayed trained on me that he had not brought an extra set of clothing.

"Well, in any case, just leave your headlamp on while you search so that I can find you again." I rose to my feet and set out, and in pretty short order, found a bed of dry twigs and a rather sizeable log that looked like they would make good kindling. I was able to gather the twigs into a bundle to take back to Marcus, but the log was too big and unwieldy for me to carry, so I would have to have Marcus return for it in my stead. On the way back, I noticed again that something was wrong – I had expected Marcus to set out collecting his own bundle of kindling, but as I approached our campsite, I saw that he was instead sat on the ground, eyes closed, leaned against a tree with his headlamp shooting idly off into the night at a slight upward angle.

"No luck?" I asked, setting my bundle of sticks down. "I've got more back my way if you want to follow. Big log too. I couldn't carry it and walk, so I had to leave it beh—"

"Doesn't matter, really."

"Eh?"

"Forgot my fire materia and my matchbook, so a campfire's not happening." He remained still for a brief moment before suddenly opening his eyes and whipping his head over at me, blinding me once again. "Unless we can use your tail to start the campfire. I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"I'm sorry to say it doesn't work quite like that," I responded quickly.

"Oh…" He returned his head to a resting position. "I remembered you saying in your story last night you used it to warm that little girl up during the snowstorm, so I thought…"

"It puts out a bit of heat but not enough to start a fire unfortunately." I glanced down at the pile of sticks on the ground. _This is going to be a long night. _"…I suppose if you get cold later, you can see if my tail fire warms you up at all."

"I'll be fine. Just wanted the extra light. Headlamp's starting to run out of juice, and you never know what's creeping around in the dark."

"If that's the case, then I can keep an eye out tonight."

"You sure?"  
"There aren't a whole lot of alternatives now, are there?" I had intended it as nothing more than a bit of friendly ribbing, a joke to make light of the situation, but I wondered if it came off that way.

Marcus smiled a bit, taking the headlamp off his head, and stared at the back of the light's battery pack for five or ten seconds. Then, after jostling it around in his palm for a moment, he looked away and switched it off, and the campsite was plunged into darkness.

It took a moment for my sight to adjust, but gradually, I began picking up the dim, red and orange-tinted remnants of the trees and grass all around that the light of my tail fire struck, dancing about in the dark. I mused that it appeared the world had burned away, leaving only a few fiery embers behind, smoldering in the endless black, as its legacy. For a moment, thoughts of my father passed through my mind, and then he was gone again.

Marcus's face, smiling in profile and yet oddly forlorn, came into view, and I wondered if he could see me in the dark as well. For several minutes, the insects singing in the trees, both beautiful and discordant, melodic and chaotic, held dominion over my senses, and as I moved toward Marcus and sat down by him, I could see something building up underneath his smile. A subversive emotion that he seemed to be doing his best to fight back. I recognized it well, but I did not know what to say to him, and so I remained quiet.

"I appreciate you coming out here with me," he said after some time. "Know you didn't have to, and I'm sure you had other things you could have been doing today, so... thanks."

"Absolutely. You're welcome, Marcus."

"And I'm sorry for all the problems…"

"Don't think twice about it. That's just how it goes sometimes, and it was nothing major, regardless. I'm happy to be here." I wasn't sure how truthful that statement was. It was the right thing to say, but...

"Well I appreciate that… Seems like it's always something though... Never can quite do it right…"

"Better a tent and materia than water and equipment, I would imagine."

"That's true… I just don't like messing up, you know? Especially in front of other people."

I laughed a bit. "Well you shouldn't feel that way around me. Mistakes are just a part of life... I know the feeling though. You have an image to maintain, right?"

No answer.

"No fault in that, if it's true. I'll tell you something. In my younger years, as long ago as they may have been, my self-professed mission in life was to protect Cosmo Canyon. I don't know anymore from what exactly I intended to protect it, but I knew in my heart that was what I was meant to do. And to do it, I had to be mature, an adult. I had to be big, strong, intelligent, and devoted. I was but a cub, mind you, but I couldn't let that stop me. I created a kind of persona, did my best to be the strong, silent type. When I had to speak, I did my best to take on a different, more 'intellectual' way of speaking. It was the image I tried to maintain around everyone in the village – big, strong, mature Nanaki – and it bothered me to no end when my actual strength and my actual maturity were made apparent to me. Every misstep I made, every time my childishness got the better of me, every time I just wasn't good enough to get the job done. I didn't want to be just a cub, but for many years, that's what I was. I hated that that was how everyone saw me, and I hated the fact that I kept showing them how right they were."

In the dark, I saw the smile reappear on Marcus's face, briefly, before disappearing again.

"…It's been almost two hundred years since then, and I still don't think I've really gotten over it… But long story short, I do know the feeling. You don't like being made a fool of, and you like it even less when it's your own actions doing yourself in."

Marcus looked over at me quietly, and from the look in his eyes, I could tell he was processing my story. The wheels were turning. "…Well full disclosure then," he said, looking back into the black of the night. "…The measurements I forgot to take at this upwelling? I didn't exactly 'forget' to take them."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean… is that somewhere down at the bottom of that upwelling is a water-logged notebook full of test results and measurements. Might've… tripped and dropped it in there."

"Oh, Marcus!" Almost involuntarily, I flopped over on my side with a thud as I gasped the words at him. The smell of wet grass and damp earth filled my nostrils, and for some reason, my spirits were lifted. A guttural laugh bubbled up out of me, I'm sure as much a surprise to Marcus as it was to me, but I ended it quickly upon noticing that he was not joining in along with me.

"Yeah… So I mean… All that talk of maintaining an image is nice, but it's kinda like… my actions do me in a lot. I don't have much of an image to maintain, I don't think. I feel like I have a bad reputation around the village, but I keep trying my hardest to ignore it."

"A bad reputation? How so?" I rolled onto my stomach and lifted my head, watching him and again trying to gauge his expression through the darkness.

"No one really takes me seriously. Least ways, it feels like that's what it is. Everyone else has their heads thoroughly buried in their own projects, and I feel like they look at me and just see…" He paused for a long moment, his gaze unfocused and distant. "It's like they all think I just jump into all this with both feet without thinking it through. I get friendly pats on my shoulders, ruffles of my hair, artificial smiles and politeness from whoever I'm around, and I feel like I have to smile and be polite in return, even though I know it's all a façade. Underneath it all, I know that there's a poor opinion of me and my work."

As Marcus spoke, I wondered silently how long he had been waiting to tell someone all of this. The words seemed to be flowing like a river now, as though they'd burst forth from a ruptured dam. Of all people, why had he chosen to say this to me?

"I mean, it's kind of like you said – they treat me like a kid regardless of what I do, but… it's just that whenever I make a mistake no one tries to help me out. They hardly even acknowledge me beyond, 'Oh it looks like Marcus messed something up again – isn't that a huge surprise?' I mean trust me – I've asked around for help on this project before, and you're literally the first person to accept the invitation. Might be in a better situation if everyone didn't just disregard me, but as is, I've just had to kinda feel my way through this on my own."

I suddenly felt guilty about how little I had enjoyed this trip of his. All of the hesitance I'd had back in the village, all the little questions I'd had about his methods, all the boredom and pointlessness of performing the tests… But I hadn't exactly _regretted _coming out – I just had found it boring... _Right_? It all returned to my mind and manifested as a pervasive heaviness in my chest. Marcus seemed to be done speaking, or at least seemed to be waiting for a response to the question I had posed to myself, and that did not help the feeling at all. I had no idea what to say to all this. "…I'm sorry to hear that you've been having such a tough time. Have you mentioned any of this to the Elders?"

"Beyond the little bit I've spoken to Elder Nadil about? No… It's not their problem."

"That may be true, but they're much better with this sort of thing than I am. You might see if they have any advice for you."

"…I may do that." Marcus slid down the tree he was leaned against until he was lying flat on his back and cupped his hands behind his head. "In any case, I appreciate you overlooking all my mistakes… The tent, the change of clothes, the materia, the lost notebook… I can see why the people in the village like you so much."

It was intended as a compliment, I'm sure, but his statement stirred feelings of further guilt and regret in me. His question from the previous night around the campfire came back to me. _So eager to leave again…_ _Why do you do it? The travelling…_

"So is this the same kind of stuff you've been doing in all your travels on your own then?" Marcus asked after a short silence.

"What, the tests, or –"

"Yeah, the tests, camping out, all of it."

"Not really, no. The camping's essentially the same. Sleeping outdoors is sleeping outdoors, pretty much. But the travels themselves… They're different. Less experimental and more an experience. Kind of an unknown."

"I see… So what do you think of this type of experiment then?"

"Well, it's hard for me to say. I think we've already established math and I don't get along, so this quantitative approach of measuring and recording everything is… different."

"Yeah, thought you looked kinda bored doing some of those tests this afternoon."

I laughed halfheartedly, and the feeling in my gut spiked. "No, it's not that." _Another lie? _"Just not something I'm used to is all." The feeling told me it wasn't true. _It's not true. It's not true. _I suddenly couldn't continue. I couldn't get past it.

Marcus took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. "Amazing how quiet it is out here. There's so much noise back in the village, everyone going about their business and all that. Even at night, you still have the windmills clanging around as they turn. But out here there's nothing…"

_Nothing…_

The droning song of the insects in the trees continued on above us. The rippling water in the upwelling slapped against the shoreline rhythmically, and an assortment of frog species nearby had begun their nightly chorus of piercing croaks and calls, seeking any interested ear in the night. A gust of wind pushed through the trees above, leaving a trail of rustling, chattering leaves in its wake.

_Nothing…_

"So peaceful… Reminds me of back home on the Kalm lands. Used to just sit outside at night and listen to the crickets chirp and to the wind drifting across the plains. Watch the stars float by and disappear behind the Midgar ruins in the distance… You know, it's funny."

"What's that?"

"I've learned the history behind Midgar now that I've grown up a bit, learned about Shinra and its electrical plants, and the stranglehold its practices held on the world. Terrible stuff... But when I was little, the first time I heard the word 'mako' was in relation to Midgar, and the first time I heard the word 'Lifestream' was in relation to mako. I didn't know how harmful the stuff was back then, but it really fascinated me. Mako energy, and spirit energy, and Lifestream, all intertwined, somehow important enough to have built that towering dead giant… Weird as it is to say now, I think I owe my interest in the study of Planet Life to Midgar, and I guess indirectly to Shinra."

"Hm…" It was a similar thought to one that had crossed my mind on several occasions. "Shinra's always been like that, it seems. Their reach has always extended well beyond the scope of their business practices. I despised them with every fiber of my being when I was younger, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't owe a lot to them as well."

"The elders have told me you have a little history with Shinra."

"More than a little, I would say…" I thought for a moment, and the years I spent in captivity at the Shinra research facility came back to me. I remembered lying on the elevator pad with the curved glass walls wrapping around me, that that was where I first met… _How I must have looked to her… _I saw my reflection in the glass, sick and unkempt, and I saw the scar, deep and jagged, running down over my eye. _My sight, taken from me by…_ The GI War crept into my mind, and though he had given me a reprieve for most of the day, thoughts of my father resurfaced along with it. _Taken away from me as well. _"...But looking back, I had rather poor experiences with **most** humans from outside the canyon in my younger years."

Despite the extra time I'd had to mull over the problem of my father throughout the day, I still couldn't make out his face in my mind's eye. I tried and tried again to picture him standing in the darkness in front of us, to carve his figure out of the immense wall of black. At first it was from different angles, then in different light, and then with different expressions, but each effort was met with failure. He was a blur in my mind, the details of his face and body washed away into nothingness. The same sense of anxiety from the previous night began to edge in on me, and it fed the desperation with which I tried to see him. My leg, the same leg as before, began to shake gently before me, wearing my pugmark slowly but surely into the mud below.

_Father… Seto…_

The sounds of the insects and the frogs faded away. The wind through the trees slowed to a halt. I was faintly aware of Marcus saying something next to me, but it was so weak and far away that I couldn't be sure. I was entirely preoccupied, and at that moment, I could hardly imagine anything else drawing my attention. Each time I failed, I redoubled my resolve and tried again, and again and again I failed, until in the end my spirit was utterly defeated and my heart ached so deeply that I could bear to try no longer.

Sound and movement returned to my surroundings, the veil of night resumed its shapeless form, and I felt oddly alone. A glance next to me showed Marcus lying in the same spot as before, his eyelids at half-mast as he drifted toward sleep. My sudden movement roused him briefly though, long enough to thank me once again in a sleepy, almost incoherent cadence for accompanying him on the trip even though the tests bored me. Stupidly, perhaps still partly preoccupied, I bade him welcome, inadvertently confirming his suspicions and my lies. Moments later, he was asleep.

Incoherent as he was, I wondered if he fully realized what I had just confessed to. Would it matter to him? Would he have reacted if it did? Would he remember it when he awoke? The anxiety set in ever closer, but I didn't dare make a sound for fear of waking him again.

_Perhaps if he sleeps a full night it will be pushed out of his mind. _And so I lay in my spot, still as I could be, and watched the light cast by my tail as it danced across the ground in front of me.

The hours passed slowly, and the anxiety and guilt did not recede. My mind bounced futilely around between my father, the people of the canyon, and my apathy toward Marcus's research. Three problems and no solutions. I knew I would have visited my father that day had Marcus not found me before I left, and I remained confident that that would have to be the solution to that problem when I returned to the village. I supposed unfortunately that I would have to figure out the other two problems on my own, though I suspected the longer I thought about it that they might be connected somehow. It was the question of why I was so offput by Marcus's research set against the question of why I had spent so much of my life away from what was by all accounts my home.

For a number of reasons, the first question bothered me more at that moment. I decided early on that it wasn't due to a dislike of Marcus himself – I really did like him. He was enthusiastic, friendly, and above any mistakes he may have made or any uncertainties I may have had about how he was doing his research, I could see that he believed in the importance of it all. He really was giving his all on this project, and it made me feel all the worse that I couldn't share in his excitement or in his belief in its significance. I couldn't excite myself over the number of plant species in a black square of plastic. I couldn't excite myself over the depth of a Lifestream upwelling. It all seemed…arbitrary. Numbers for the sake of numbers. Knowledge for the sake of knowing.

And yet that was the problem. That was what bothered me so deeply. As disinterested as I was, what Marcus was doing was studying Planet Life. This was the exact same field to which I had devoted my life.

_What is anything I've done over the past century other than knowledge for the sake of knowing? Surely, there must be a reason I've been able to keep at my travels for so long when an afternoon of Marcus's tests so thoroughly drained my drive to continue. Surely something must separate the two. _But as I turned it over and over in my mind, I could find no such distinction. At their core, the two were the same. So then, why did I feel this way?

As I thought, the fatigue that I'd felt early that morning and had all but forgotten over the course of the day began to close back in around me. It had been nearly 48 hours since I had last slept, I realized, so I was not overly surprised. Nonetheless, as the time passed, the relative clarity of thought I'd had was gradually replaced with a muddled fog that blocked my thought process, making it so that I had to exert just as much effort trying to remember the question I was asking as I exerted trying to answer it.

_How are we different? No… that's not it. It's why I am bothered that we are the same. That's it, right? But are we the same? Have I established that? Perhaps we are similar, but are we truly the same? Then, how are we different? Is that what I was asking?_

I wanted to sleep, but I knew that the problem wouldn't allow me until I had come to some sort of conclusion about it. Whether or not my mind was lucid, it would not rest without resolution. And it was long in coming, but after what felt like hours of circling back on my own flow of consciousness and repeating the same few tired strains of logic to myself, I eventually began to press forward.

We were the same, and we were different, I decided, and where we differed was all in the approach. Where Marcus seeked to measure and break the environment down into numbers to be tested, I merely observed. Where I looked for understanding of the ecosystem as a whole, he looked for an understanding of the mechanics underlying it. Where I saw a vast and beautiful forest, he saw a web of succession and evolution and various other mechanics waiting to be discovered, that guided the course life would take over time. And…

_That's it._

That was it. After wading through all the meandering streams of thought and uncertainty and worry, I had arrived, ragged and waterlogged, at an endpoint. My chest tightened and burned, and my eye watered uncontrollably. This was the realization that had been bothering me, simple though it were, and now lain bare before me, it felt as though it were tearing me open.

We were not the same. This was not all a matter of approach. It was a divide far deeper than that. It was an issue of superficial recognition and appreciation in comparison to a deeper mechanical understanding of life. It was an issue of seeing versus understanding.

In this frame of reference, the fact that I had so disliked performing Marcus's tests throughout the day took on a new and terrible light, and whether deservedly or not, I felt ashamed.

_Is this what the study of Planet Life is then? Measurements and numbers? Mathematics and tests? Is this what I should have been doing all these years past? Have I been going about it incorrectly for all this time?_

More and more questions, but now I feared the answers.

That was the rest of the night for me. Sleep held Marcus steadfastly, but it did not come for me, and so I was left languishing in my spot. My fatigue became so great in the early hours of the morning that it took on a painful aspect. The burning dread grew in my chest and troubled me. My legs ached from having been locked in the same position for so long without a chance to stretch. My weary eye looked on through the darkness, dried by the air such that blinking only dragged imaginary shards of glass along its surface.

The darkness stretched out and wavered before me, dancing as much or more than the embers of light from my tail fire. I wanted to sleep. Goodness knows I wanted to sleep. When I was sure Marcus would not stir, I lay my head across my front legs for a while, then rolled over onto my side, then rolled onto my back, curled my body, rolled back over, propped a leg up on a tree, laid a paw over my eye, and so on and so forth, but I could not find a comfortable position to help me rest. The anxious feeling, the shame I felt, poked and prodded at me every chance it could get, and that alone was enough to keep me exhausted but awake.

_You've wasted the past hundred years of your life… What next?_

Somewhat against my will, I chose to wait.


	6. Day Trip - Dawn

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, the tests resume, and Nanaki's newfound realizations are seemingly confirmed through his own apathy and indifference. He and Marcus return to Cosmo Canyon, and Nanaki suddenly feels out of place. A pdf of the entire second section of the story, titled Day Trip (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

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6. Dawn

I heard the morning before I saw it. I had ended up on my back, contorted around to the side, watching dully as my tail fire flickered away, when the insects and the frogs in the darkness surrounding the campsite relented in their various calls. It was slow at first, but the effect was pronounced. My ears flicked as I became aware of the silence they left behind, and as if on cue, one by one, birds high up above began to rouse and go about their morning business of singing and calling, reaffirming the bounds of their territories to anyone and anything within earshot. For a time that's all it was. Morning was here – the familiar fog in my mind told me that much – but the canopy above blocked out any light there may have been, and so I held my spot in the darkness, continuing to watch my tail fire burn away, and listened.

The air had cooled considerably in the early morning hours, now digging down into my fur and wrapping me in a chill that sent me to the very edge of shivering. To distract myself from the feeling, I tried playing a game, noting to myself each time a new, unique type of bird call began and keeping a running tally of the species I heard. I even went so far as to try to mimic a few calls under my breath as I went, but I lost focus quickly, and no sooner had I lost count of the calls than I lost interest in counting altogether.

When the black of night lifted into a dull grey and the details of the trees all around began to appear, I almost didn't notice. I was there in body, but certainly not in mind. The first thing I saw, inverted, was the clearing ahead where the upwelling had been hiding for the duration of the night. It looked somehow different than I'd imagined it in the dark the night before, perhaps smaller, or perhaps not as…significant as I'd built it up to be. I'd thought that the sound of the water lapping against the land hinted at a grand, craterous shoreline just out of sight, but now… To my eye, it was unremarkable, rather plain and unassuming in the faint morning light, and yet I knew, in every sense, it was the entire reason I was there at that moment.

A sharply inhaled breath from next to me told me that Marcus had begun to stir at last from his sleep. The forest brightened gradually, as though it too were waking, and as the first shafts of sunlight broke through the canopy, Marcus stretched, sat up, and leaned silently back on his hands. He wore an expression that was equal parts drowsy and confused, his face dead and his eyes squinting under the flattened ridge of his brow line, and as he glanced aimlessly around the campsite, I had to wonder if he knew where he was.

"I feel disgusting," he grumbled upon seeing me. "And my neck hurts."

I rolled over onto my side and flicked my tail out behind me. "Good morning to you too," I responded in an unintentionally derisive tone. "Why do you feel disgusting?"

Marcus was slow to reply. "…Just do. Need a shower or something… Can feel the sweat all over me," he finally said, reaching up with a hand to rub the back of his neck. After a quick yawn, he continued, saying, "Think I slept wrong."

"Well, you slept at least."

"Eh? You have trouble getting to sleep last night?"

"Actually still working on it now," I said, smiling weakly.

"Hm," he grunted at me before yawning again.

"…If you're feeling that badly, we don't have to do these last two spots today. We can return to the village, come back another time…" I did my best not to sound too hopeful.

"Nah, we're here. Best just to knock it out now. Will just have to burn these clothes or something when we get back. Don't think they'll ever be quite clean again." Marcus rose to his feet, stretched, and took a drink from one of his water tanks. "You thirsty?" he asked offering the tank over to me.

"A bit." I stood up, taking a moment to stretch my legs at long last, and walked over to Marcus. My first attempt at getting any water from the tank was a failure due to how unwieldy it was to hold, so Marcus helped me out, holding it at an angle to keep the flow of water constant while I drank. _Refreshing. _Instead of saying thanks though, I took it upon myself to point out to him, "You do smell quite a bit. Perhaps you could rinse off in the upwelling or something."

Marcus laughed a bit and responded, "Lifestream's still too concentrated here. If I took a swim, I'd come out with a healthy case of Mako Poisoning."

"Hm. That would be a problem, wouldn't it? All right then, I guess just try not to stink at me too much, eh?"

"Yep. Think I'm gonna get going on this in a sec," he said, matter-of-factly, and knelt down to search through his backpack. "Gonna be a long day if we aren't careful."

"Starting already? Don't you have something to eat, or…something?" I asked.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I meant you."

"Oh… Nah. I'll survive, I think. Just wanna get out of here ASAP." A few seconds later, he followed up, saying, "Think I forgot to bring it anyway." He pulled the same multicolored, spooled string from the previous day out of his pack and made his way out to the upwelling. Over his shoulder, he called back to me, "If you'd like to start on some of the chemistry tests, that'll help get us out of here quicker."

_Get us out of here quicker?_ I recalled again the terrible admission I'd made to Marcus the previous night, how I'd wondered if he would remember it when he awoke. It certainly seemed that way now, but perhaps I was connecting dots that weren't there. Perhaps he was merely asking for help. But the flat inflection with which he was speaking… Perhaps that was just because he was still sleepy. In any case, I dug into Marcus's pack and pulled out the metal box full of all the packets and test tubes, and followed Marcus out to the upwelling, carrying it under one leg, and hobbling along on the other three.

The tests were easier than they had been the previous day – despite my heightened fatigue, I broke no more glassware, and made fairly good time producing results. Since Marcus was too busy with the string to write anything down, I committed several results to memory so that I could recite them to him later, but partway through, the thought dawned on me that I could probably write them in his notebook myself if I had it. After a quick trip back to the campsite to pick up pen and paper, I set to work writing. Easy enough, though the pen did slip out of my paws a few times.

_Hard to keep a grip without thumbs – dewclaws only do so much._

Marcus finished his depth measurement and had me record the result in the book for him while he moved on to the "black square" test – the diversity test, if I remembered correctly. I finished my chemistry tests shortly thereafter, and, left with nothing else to do, I sat down and watched him work.

And… not to say that watching Marcus's backside hunched over a piece of black plastic in the grass was boring, but the next thing I remember was Marcus leaned over me, nudging on my shoulder and saying something that I couldn't quite make out. I had dozed off somewhere along the line, and he was attempting to wake me again to move on to the third upwelling.

"Mm? Yeah, I'm 'wake," I half-spoke, half-slurred in his direction. It took a moment for mental cognizance to return to me, and another moment before I could rouse myself enough to rise to my feet, but before too long, I was up and taking disoriented, semi-staggered steps through the forest at Marcus's side.

"You know, truth be told, I'm happy not to be in the village today," came Marcus's panting voice about thirty minutes into our walk.

The suddenness of his statement made me jump a bit, lifting the weight of sleep that had been dragging me down, if for just a moment. Glancing over, I saw that he hadn't even given the air a chance to warm up before breaking out into a heavy sweat. Smiling, I responded, "Why is that?"

"Eh… It's those hunters."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Hold up a second." Marcus stopped, set down one of the water tanks, and took a long drink from the other tank before we continued on. "Just don't think we should be letting them stay in the village. Makes me uncomfortable, you know?"

"I gathered that much the other night around the Candle." I took a moment to think, and then continued. "Where would you propose they stay instead? There's not another inn for more than a day's travel from Cosmo Canyon – Nibelheim, I think is the closest."

"Don't know. Not any of my business. They just shouldn't be allowed."

"And why is that?" I suspected I knew the answer already.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, looking at me and waiting for a response. "…I mean, the sport of killing? The enjoyment? The glorification of it? I mean, you saw the reverence they have for that Ruger guy, right?"

"I did."

"Well it's all of that, you know? It's not what Cosmo Canyon's about. We're not about death, or killing, or maiming, or destroying. …And the fact that we're letting that sort of… those people… that we're letting them make their home in the canyon, even for a moment…"

"I see…"

"What, you don't think so? I mean, I would think you of all people wouldn't want them –" he stopped speaking abruptly, perhaps aware of what he had implied.

"Regardless of what I think of what they do, I doubt I have anything to do with why they're here."

"…Wouldn't be so sure. I don't trust them as far as I can throw them. Especially Ruger. Guy's a snake if I've ever seen one."

I laughed again. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge. We've been around him for what – all of a few hours so far? He seems like he has an ego, but that's all I've seen."

"Few hours is more than enough. Guy's bad news. Far as I'm concerned, all of them are." He reached up and wiped his forehead with his forearm. "Just waiting for an excuse to show one of them what I really think."

"That's probably not wise…"

Marcus smiled and seemed mildly let down. "Probably not." A few steps later, he finished his thought, half under his breath, by saying, "That Ruger guy just really bugs me."

The final upwelling was small and shallow – I could easily have jumped from one embankment across to the opposite side, and the muddy bottom of the pool was plainly visible at a glance. Upon arrival, Marcus took another drink from one of his tanks of water and got to work on his depth measures while I worked on my chemistry tests at his side. A well-oiled machine, the two of us. I noted, however, that much like the previous day, I was bored to tears, and I wondered again why that should be. A bit of the anxiety from the night before flared up in me again as I worked, and before I finished, I began again to seriously regret having come on the trip.

_My time would have been better spent with my father than out here. What have I even learned here? How do to these tests? That Marcus, in his few years, has done more for the study of Planet Life than I have done in a century? That… _I couldn't say it. I couldn't deliberately think it to myself, but I couldn't prevent the words from forming in my mind, and as soon as they did, the anxiety surged like a wave and struck me in the gut with a percussive impact. _If this is the way it is meant to be, then perhaps I am not meant to do it._

Marcus finished measuring the upwelling, then performed his black square test, and then that was it – we were finished. I felt no relief as we began on our way back, and for a time, it was quiet between the two of us. Marcus stopped periodically as the air grew warmer and warmer throughout the morning so that he could grab a drink from his water tanks, and about the time we reached the forest's edge, it occurred to me to ask him if he would like me to carry the tanks to lighten his load a bit.

He told me that they did not weigh all that much anymore, but I returned that I had carried nothing but a pile of sticks in the past day, and that it was the least I could do to help him out. He declined again, asking how I could carry a tank and walk all at once. I took a moment to think, and then suggested that he use the multicolored string to tie the handles of the tanks together and then drape them over my back. He laughed incredulously, asking, "What, you mean like a pack mule or something?"

_Pack mule… _"Either that or you can help me slip your backpack on," I responded.

As he laid the tanks over my back and I felt the string cut down between the lines of fur in my mane, I caught another whiff of Marcus's scent on the air. Sweat and dirt and even more sweat, imbued into his clothing and caked onto his skin, odors distinctly human, pungent and revolting. I recoiled reactively as it first hit my nostrils, a visible reaction I thought, but there was no response from Marcus, and as the scent set in and the shock subsided, I was able to maintain my silence. We continued on, researcher and packmule, down into the red rock of the canyon.

The tank over my left shoulder seemed to be a bit heavier than its counterpart, slipping incrementally with each step I took until I was more dragging it than carrying it. Stopping, I crouched to lower the higher tank to the ground and reset my position under the string before rising again. I hadn't quite gotten them back to level, but it was certainly closer. A few minutes later I had to repeat the procedure, and again a few minutes after that.

"Problems?" Marcus asked, looking back from a few steps ahead. He had stopped sweating altogether, even though the air was much warmer now. I wondered if the decrease in humidity or the fact that I was carrying some of his load was at the root of it.

"Eh, the one tank is just pulling the other one off me. Have to readjust," I said, crouching down slowly and sidling over a step or two.

"You sure you don't just want me to carry them?"

"No, I'm fine. The weight's just a little off-kilter."

"Okay, okay… Maybe we can fix it." He turned back and knelt down next to one of the tanks and unscrewed its cap. "Mind grabbing the other one?"

"Yeah…"

With some effort, I unscrewed the cap on the other tank, and Marcus poured water into it until both tanks were a touch less than half-full.

"That'll do it, eh?"

"Should make it a bit easier. Thanks." I could immediately feel the difference in the weight's distribution. Much better. If anything, the heavier of the two was now on my right, but it did not slip noticeably as we walked, so I was satisfied.

Marcus brought the subject of Ruger up one more time before we reached the village, mostly voicing the same opinions he had earlier that morning, but beyond that, I think we both were primarily concerned with getting back in good time. I still wasn't sure if I would take the time to visit my father or try to get some sleep once we were back, and I could only assume that the first thing Marcus would do was head to the shower to rinse the stink off of him. Perhaps throw those clothes away afterward.

And sure enough, the first thing he said upon our arrival, even before we'd finished ascending the steps into the village, was, "Finally. I seriously gotta go take a shower. Feel absolutely disgusting."

I had to laugh. "Probably not a bad idea. Your smell is overpowering my nose."

Eian and a few others nearby greeted us as we entered the village, asking us how the trip had gone. Marcus did all the speaking, explaining that everything had gone well, three upwellings down, ran out of daylight on the first day, I had been quite helpful conducting tests. The fervor with which we had been welcomed dissipated quickly though, making me wonder how genuine it had been in the first place. For the most part, everyone seemed only interested in the initial response: 'yes, it went well,' or 'no, it didn't go well.' Anything beyond that was met with indifference. Perhaps what Marcus had said the previous night had more truth to it than I had thought. After the residents dispersed, it was just the two of us left standing on the landing in front of a pair of empty fruit stands.

"D'you see what I mean?" Marcus asked me under his breath, picking the water tanks up off my back. "Seemed kinda like they just wanted to see if I messed anything up while we were gone, didn't it?"

"It was somewhat odd. Not sure how to explain it."

"Yeah…"

Across the landing, I saw the hunter camp, hunters sitting in front of their tents, watching the two of us a bit warily from almost the same spots they had sat in when we left the previous morning. The camp itself seemed even larger now than before. Perhaps I was just imagining it.

"Maybe I was just overpowering their noses too. …In any case, thanks for dealing with my smell and coming out with me. Really helped things along."

"No problem. I enjoyed it." I paused momentarily. _Does he remember?_

Marcus smiled, but said nothing more.

"How many more trips out there do you think you have?"

"Barring any setbacks, there's fifteen or sixteen upwellings left. Three, four trips?"

"Hm. Well let me know if you're going to make another trip while I'm still here, eh?"

"Sure thing." He slung the tied up tanks over his shoulder, where they promptly bounced off his backpack and swung back down around to his side. "…Off to get cleaned up then. Catch you later, Nanaki."

"Have a good one, Marcus."

Our goodbyes said, Marcus left up the stairs with the water tanks still at his side, and disappeared into the interior of the high rise. And then I was alone.

A bit unsure what to do, I stood in my spot and looked around. Eian's back was turned to me – he was once again at work watching the stairway out of the village for new visitors. The hunters across the landing continued to shoot glances at me out of the corners of their eyes, but their gazes averted every time I tried to make eye contact. A few villagers went about their business around the landing, entirely indifferent to my presence. I was mostly old news, it seemed.

I wondered if that was all that my return merited. Did I deserve something more, or was indifference to be expected despite my history in the canyon – a moment of acknowledgement and nothing more.

_Why should it be any different? _I thought to myself after a moment further of watching._ Rather self-important to expect anything more. _And yet I felt a distinct sense of disappointment that I had been cast aside so quickly. _Is there even a place for me here_ _anymore?_

I found myself paralyzed by that thought. Perhaps all I was to them was another in a long line of visitors, come to the canyon for a break from the road, come to see the famed hunter Onuris before returning from whence I came. How could I show that I was different? Was there someone I could speak with, perhaps something I could do to help out around the village? But where? Who? I saw no familiar faces, and I did not know how I could even begin to ask. And what would it truly change? This village and all its people were strangers to me now, and neither walking the grounds nor speaking to the villagers would change that.

Or perhaps it was the fatigue speaking. Sleep beckoned to me several times as I stood there, and thoughts of heading up to the observatory to rest gradually filled my mind. And yet, I found myself hesitant when I determined that was what I would do. How could I rest now?

_I cannot stand here forever though… Perhaps the best course of action would be to follow my original plan and go to see him. Perhaps that will help…_

But the hesitation was also there, however briefly, when I went to take my first step toward the caves, as I worried again about my inability to recall my father's face. It passed after some time though, and in its place I found the determination and desire to visit him. If nothing else, I could use him as a first step toward reconnecting with the canyon and the village. As I made my way up the stairway toward the sealed door, sleep called again, and I felt the hunters' eyes burning into my side, but for that brief moment, I was unconcerned, distracted by the surging anticipation of seeing my father again.


	7. Shadows - Shifting Stone

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki visits his father hoping to reconnect to his past, and on his return to Cosmo Canyon has an encounter in the GI Caves. A pdf of the entire third section of the story, titled Shadows (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

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Shadows

* * *

Shifting Stone

By chance, I happened across Elder Phoenix again as I neared the sealed door.

"Ah, Nanaki. How was your visit with your father yesterday? Nelson tells me you didn't make it back in time to speak with him last night."

_Nelson? …Oh. _"I actually got a bit sidetracked before I left. Didn't make it out there."

"Oh? I didn't see you around the village today. I thought you must just have spent the night down there."

"No, I was with Marcus, out at the Ancient Forest helping with his research. Just got back ten or fifteen minutes ago."

"Ah, and how was that? Did Marcus show you any new tricks?"

"It was good. He's got a… different sort of approach to Planet Life studies than I have, but it definitely opened my eyes a bit."

"Glad to hear it," Elder Phoenix said through a radiant smile. "Marcus has been looking for someone to accompany him out to the forest for some time, so I'm sure he was happy to have you along."

"Yeah, he told me he'd been having trouble with that…" I trailed off a bit before finding my footing again. "So, I was wondering, is it still all right for me to head down through the caves?"

"Absolutely. I expect that Nelson will be wanting to speak with you again tonight when he returns, so if you're able to make it back tonight, I'm sure he will appreciate it."

"I'll see what I can do," I said, without much meaning it.

I bid Elder Phoenix farewell and headed through the doorway and down the series of ladders into the caves. It was somehow darker than I thought it would be, but after the first few feet, I thought it foolish to have expected anything else. As it were, my tail fire cast just enough light for me to navigate through the darkness with some effort. There was a certain dank mustiness that filled the caves, almost like mold, which I thought odd given the very little precipitation that the canyon ever saw. The other times I'd been through this passage, the air was dry, but for whatever reason, it was quite humid this time, enough so that it bothered my nose rather tirelessly. More than once, I sneezed – and my echo sneezed back at me – and before long my nasal passage had sealed shut, leaving me able only to breathe through my mouth. It was a minor inconvenience, but it made me long for the light of day and dread the return trip I would have to make later.

And every time that dread crossed my mind as I walked along in the darkness, the trip to the forest came back to my mind. From the awkwardly quiet trip out to the forest, to the time I spent hunched over test tubes watching water change colors, to the conversation at the campsite lit only by the light of my tail, and to the silent trip back, I ran through it all again, and I found that even so soon afterwards, I had my regrets. I wished I had declined Marcus's offer to join in on the trip. I wished I hadn't seen his version of the study of Planet Life. I wished I hadn't heard his opinion of Ruger and his cohorts in the hunter camp. I wished he hadn't opened my eyes. I just… I wished I hadn't gone.

And now, everything suddenly seemed so… wrong… so alien to me… I would have been hard-pressed to explain it, but that was how it felt, and as I walked on, the feeling worsened. Marcus, the canyon, the villagers, the Elders, the emptiness of the observatory, the hunters, my father, my travels… Ruger… Everything. The mere though of it all filled me with anxiety and twisted my gut in knots, enough so that I had trouble concentrating on the path ahead of me.

But after close to an hour traversing the networks of caves, tunnels, and raised walkways spanning seemingly bottomless chasms, my nose cleared up enough that I finally caught the scent of fresh air coming from ahead. The walls began to lighten as I pressed on, and within the next ten minutes I had come upon the rear entrance to the canyon – Seto's Watch, as I called it. I took in a deep breath through my suddenly cleared nose and was happy to be out of the darkness. High on the cliffs ahead of me, I spotted my father's outline set against the brilliant blue of the sky. For a moment, a wave of contentment rushed over me, but even as I smiled at the sight of him, I became aware of a twinge of apprehension forcing its way to the front of my mind.

_Not now…_ I stepped forward, disregarding the feeling, and began making my way up the cliffside to my father's level. Once there, I instantly understood the reason for my apprehension. Parts of the stone that made up his body were not as I remembered. My heart sank. After all these years, he had begun to erode.

His mane had rounded, the features of his face had smoothed away, and the last bit of his tail was nowhere to be found. He hardly even resembled himself. A light but persistent cold wind blew in across the Watch and made my face sting. I wanted to cry – my mouth fell silently open and tears quickly welled up behind my eye. My hind legs went weak for a moment, and I sat, more of a controlled fall than anything else, to avoid having them completely give way.

_How… _The entire world fell away into silence as I sat there, and even the constant wind seemed to relent, if only for that brief moment of painful realization.

"…I suppose… I am happy to see you, father…" I managed after a few moments. "Given the state you're in… I should be happy to have the chance again. I didn't think it had been so long since I had visited… It's amazing how quickly things can change. After two centuries of guarding this valley though, I guess it was inevitable. You've earned your rest." I swallowed hard and fought back tears. "But for now, I am here and so are you, so maybe we can catch up."

Silence was my response. The wind whistled in my ears, but nothing else could be heard.

"It's been a long two years. I've been all over the world and seen so many things, I don't even know where to start… I visited Wutai maybe a year and a half back, actually had the chance to help with some building restorations around town. The people were very accommodating – they gave me free meals and lodging the whole time I was there, even if it's only because I knew Yuffie back when she was still…around… In any case I'm certain I made some new friends. I bought a pair of binoculars while I was there too. Took them up into the mountains for a few weeks to try to learn the birds of the area. Didn't really fit to my face very well, since they were built for humans, but still better than nothing, I think... You would be surprised how different the fauna of that region is from the rest of the world. But that's what you get with island habitats like Wutai that have been separated from the mainland for so long. Some really bizarre, unexpected changes, almost like they were never connected in the first place.

"So… I was there in and around Wutai, and I was up on the northern continent for a stretch. I actually lost the binoculars while I was there. Left them at the inn in Bone Village, and by the time I went back for them, they had been stolen. It was a shame too, because they were really high quality. Cost me close to 4000 gil. Oh well. Hopefully, someone out there is putting them to good use. Anyways, I was there for a while, traveling the snowfields between Bone Village and Icicle Inn, and then I came back down south to travel through the Corel Mountains and stopped off in Corel. The warmer weather was nice, but…

Life is still difficult in Corel. It's still a shantytown. Few imports and even fewer exports. No real infrastructure at all, and most of the people are still living in shacks. There was a pretty nasty illness going around when I was there that ended up taking a few people's lives, and it was all the worse because of the lack of medical facilities. The town's physician was a physician in name only, and he only worked out of his home. It was…not a good situation, but I did what I could to help. I helped set up a makeshift clinic, hunted for food to feed the sick, and even put the little magical ability I have to use trying to slow the sickness down with a Regen materia the physician gave to me. It was a losing fight though.

"After a few weeks, I was asked to travel to Costa del Sol to request further assistance combating the sickness. When I returned a few days later with a staff of doctors armed to the teeth with remedies, essentially every one in Corel had been afflicted. There was some serious concern expressed that the sickness might find a way to jump species into me, so upon request, I left that same day. A few months later, while I was in Midgar meeting an old acquaintance, I heard that the illness was rumored to have been a reemergence of Geostigma, but that it wasn't as virulent and the outbreak was considered 'under control' by officials in the field.

"I stayed in Midgar for a few months, traveling from sector to sector, and after that, I meandered my way to Junon and back to Costa del Sol, and from there back here to the canyon. Went on a short research trip with someone from the village yesterday morning, out to the forest to the east. And now, here I am. It's been… a gratifying, sometimes disheartening two years on the road, so I'm happy to be back. Or…well…"

I wasn't sure how to continue. I knew there was something I was trying to say, but I didn't know how to say it. Seto was silent while I gathered my thoughts together.

"The thing is, I…I've been bothered since I got back. I am happy to be back again, and I am happy to see the few familiar faces left from my previous visits, but… there's something that has made me uneasy. I don't feel that connection like I'm home, not like I should. Something changed while I was gone these past few years. For every familiar face it feels like there are three that I don't know. I don't really remember the land like I used to, and even the places I do know seem somehow… different. Changed. I just… I don't feel any sense of belonging. It's like I'm a visitor.

"In my own hometown, I'm a visitor. Staying in the observatory feels like I'm living in someone else's house. I'm afraid to touch anything. I can't seem to make anything more than a conversation of formalities with anyone in the village. And that research trip I went on was completely alien to me, like I was helping a stranger instead of a fellow villager. Even you've changed from what little I remember. You know, I was thinking of you the other night, and I realized I couldn't remember your face. As hard as I tried, I just couldn't remember. It's what really made me understand that something was wrong. For all the travelling I've done and all the experiences I've had, I've lost some of my most cherished memories. And… I think that's why I came today. I wanted to try to remember. To try to reconnect. And now, as much as I wanted to see your face again, I can't. …Not the one I'm trying to remember. It's gone…"

I was silent for a moment. At some level, I knew I was speaking only to myself, but I had for a long time spoken to my father to help me organize and understand my thoughts. It cleared my mind and gave me respite to speak to him. Whether he was listening or not was immaterial.

"…It's my own fault though, I think, so I shouldn't blame it on you like that. I'm just afraid that… If I'm lucky, I'll live for another two or three hundred years. What if I can't reconnect? What if I can't find that sense of belonging, of home, that I'm suddenly missing?"

Silence.

_Am I manufacturing this feeling from nothing? Is it natural? Isn't that what it's like to be an adult?_ _They say that_ _home is wherever the heart is… Is it here in the canyon? Or out there on the plains and in the mountains and the unexplored forests of the world? Where is it?_

The black pit deep inside me trembled lightly at the question. My eye watered as I laughed shakily. "Oh… If it wasn't obvious, Gilligan has returned," I said in an unintentional whisper. "After being gone for so long, it snuck back up on me as soon as I arrived in the canyon a few days ago and it's grown almost out of control since then. I'm not sure what to do. It will cripple me if left unchecked, but I have no course of attack to take against it. Travelling and learning about the world was my remedy before, but it has created the problem this time, and I feel like I'd only be running from it if I left again. I was hoping that seeing you would help do away with it or at least help me see what action to take, but I feel even more lost now than before. …Again, I can't blame you. I just wish I knew."

Ruger entered my mind briefly, and for some reason, I thought I could see a thread connecting him to everything else. "That hunter that is staying in the canyon, Nelson Ruger…" Did I blame him? Was he the reason for Gilligan's return? _But why?_ I could not think of any reason, and so I could not speak any more on the matter.

"…I'm sorry…" was all I could say. The phrase repeated in my mind, evidence of the guilt I felt over everything I had told my father. I didn't know how he would have reacted if he had seen me speaking this way – in truth, I didn't remember enough about him even to posit a guess – but I was ashamed. The black pit trembled again, this time eliciting a tremor in my front legs as well. A tear escaped my eye as my attention was drawn to the shaking, and I wished only for some kind of help. A reason, an answer, a direction. Anything.

But instead I sat, trembling silently beside the weather-beaten visage of my father, and watched the day roll slowly by.

The weariness that had been veiled over me as a result of my previous night's insomnia took hold over the course of the day as I tried to think about Gilligan, Ruger, and my sense of belonging. How could it be, after having commingled with man and beast the world over, that I felt this way? _If I am a creature of the world, then… Perhaps that is just how it is…_ The thought plagued my mind, and though Gilligan was content to rest for most of the rest of the day, I remained troubled. In the mid-afternoon my fatigue got the better of me, and I fell asleep for some time. It was a dreamless sleep from which I gained no rest, and when I awoke to the setting sun, I felt no better for the effort.

"Hmm…" I mumbled after a moment of watching the changing colors in the sky. "It's probably time I got going. They'll be expecting me." A flock of silhouetted songbirds skittered across the sky ahead of me, probably looking for a place to settle down for the night. "It was… good… to see you again." I felt like there was something else I wanted to say, but I could not find the words. After another moment of empty thought, I left.

…..

As I walked, the way back to the village seemed to move and sway before me. I wasn't dizzy so much as I was just exhausted, but nonetheless the darkness rippled away, warping the path ahead of me. A steady pressure on the back of my eye pushed at my eyelid, demanding that I stop to sleep, but I continued on in the hopes of getting back as quickly as possible. It was difficult… The sweeping darkness of the caves, the fatigue… everything. I had not gotten what I came for, and despite the darkness and the exhaustion, that was what tore at me the most. After some time, I began to wonder what exactly I had expected in the first place, why it was I thought visiting my father would help anything. The thought swirled in my head like a wild wind and preoccupied me so thoroughly that I lost my way at one point and ended up aimlessly walking unfamiliar narrow corridors for what felt like hours.

And as I searched for the path I'd lost, whether because of hunger or fatigue, paranoia began to set in. From the darkness ahead and behind, above and below, strange noises edged in around me, sometimes like movement, the shifting of rocks broken loose by footsteps, and sometimes like faint indistinguishable voices speaking to each other or to me. At first I thought perhaps the spirits of the GI had not left the caverns so entirely as Elder Phoenix had made it seem, but as time dragged on without any hostile encounters, I began to wonder if it wasn't my mind just playing tricks. Try as I might, I could find no concrete evidence to justify my paranoia. Resolving to ignore the noises, I pressed on, but shortly after, I became aware of something. The light cast by my tail fire seemed to dim the farther I walked.

_No, it's not any dimmer, _I thought, looking over my shoulder at the quietly burning flame. _But I'm sure it's darker in here now than it was even a few minutes ago. _I surveyed the hallway around me as I thought, and confirmed that it was, in fact, darker. The darkness encroached on my position so strongly, I could hardly see two body lengths in any direction. As I walked onward, even the walls at my sides became difficult to make out. _It's almost as if the light is being swallowed or absorbed…_

I hesitated mid-step for a moment at that thought, and it occurred to me that even if there were no spirits remaining in those caves, I might not be alone. A shiver ran down my spine, standing my fur on end as it travelled. I looked over my shoulder again, suddenly unsure of the direction to take. The hall stretched on, featureless, into the writhing dark in either direction, giving me no clear sign what to do. I was in no condition to fight – honestly, my fighting days were long passed regardless – so I weighed my options as carefully as my mind would allow. Almost against my will, I decided to continue forward, and as I took my first few steps onward I heard from behind me in a whisper, clear as day, a female voice calmly call my name.

_Nanaki…_

I wheeled around in shock and was met with darkness. My stomach growled abruptly, interrupting an otherwise unnerving silence and reminding me how long it had been since I'd last eaten. "Is someone there?" I called back to the voice, uttering each word through a deadening, suddenly palpable sense of dread. _I did hear a voice, didn't I?_

My heart beat heavily in my chest, loud enough that as I waited for a response, I could hear it in my head. All was quiet. No response.

"If someone is there, then show yours—" The sound of shuffling rocks beyond the reach of the light sent a burning jolt of adrenaline coursing through me. The thought crossed my mind, firstly, that I wished my tail fire, a luminous beacon for anything pursuing me in these caves, would extinguish itself and hide me, and, secondly, that it would perhaps be even worse to experience this in pitch black. I was, therefore, thankful for the light, regardless of its utility in the current situation.

The sound of shuffling rocks came again, closer this time, bringing my heart rate to a frenzied pace. The dread bubbled up from deep inside me, threatening to overwhelm me. I strained to see through the darkness as it expanded and retracted, a swirling, looming emptiness. Ten seconds passed, then fifteen, then twenty, and I could not move. The longer I watched, the more unbearable it became. The dread pervaded every corner of my body, nauseating me with its intensity. I peered intently through the blackness. Something was there. I knew it. I felt it. As soon as I looked away, it would strike. If I so much as blinked, it would erupt from the darkness and strike. _What do I do? I can't even— _And then I was struck again with a surging, burning wave of fear as I saw it.

The shock stunned me into speechlessness. _Has it been there the whole time? Is it following me? Watching me?_

Ahead in the darkness, draped against the right side of the corridor stood an amorphous black shape that rippled independently of the surrounding dark. It did not move, yet it was never still. It was featureless, yet it had a definite form. It changed as I watched, at times resembling something vaguely humanoid, at other times resembling a beast or a bird, and at still others, taking on a form that was both horrible and unfamiliar to me.

I was petrified. I wanted to speak, but my voice was nowhere to be found. My feet were all but glued to the floor. My mouth fell open. _What… Am I… Am I really seeing this? _Trembling broke out over my entire body, and my legs nearly gave out under me. My eye watered, further distorting my sight. _Please…_

It continued to change, just barely visible at the limit of my sight. Man, eagle, bear, wolf, all devoid of any detail, and then…

_Me? Or… father?_

The shape was familiar and inexplicably horrifying. Writhing in the darkness, the undulating mass took my form and no longer changed. It stood, featureless, and watched. A long moment passed, during which I was still unable to act, and then it began to walk, or possibly expand, toward me. The darkness reached out and pushed through the light cast by my tail, aimless and unrelenting.

I took a quick step back from it and then turned and broke out into a full sprint as fear overwhelmed me. The corridors flew by almost quicker than my tail could light them, winding left, then right, and stretching on ahead into oblivion. The horror welled up inside me, escalating as I ran. I couldn't look back. It was there – I knew it. It was there, keeping up with my every bounding step, slowly advancing on me no matter how fast I ran. As the seconds stretched into minutes and my lungs began to burn, I descended into a blind panic. I ran faster than I thought I possibly could, trying my hardest to keep ahead of the thing pursuing me. No thoughts came to my mind at all – it was pure instinct. Flight. My mind closed off from the world, and my peripheral vision faded nearly into nonexistence. The walls on either side of me disappeared and I became aware that the hallway had suddenly expanded into an impossibly high-roofed cavern. Aside from that detail, I could not make myself look anywhere but straight ahead for fear of what I might see sprinting alongside me, watching through the dark. I prayed for something, anything familiar to come into sight, but there was nothing.

I could hardly see anymore – what light I had had before was now enveloped by the endless expanse. The ground fell away into the depths on either side of the walkway as I ran – I was on an elevated catwalk, a bridge over a chasm – and when the bridge forked in two in front of me, my indecision over what path would lead me to safety very nearly led me over the edge. As it were, I somehow steered myself along the left branch and continued on past the end of the bridge. My lungs had just about given out when I realized I'd made it into familiar territory. The cavern formations were known to me – I'd seen them many times before when I had visited my father.

_I'm close. Just a little farther. _The combination of panic, horror, and my shortness of breath had my heart at such a fevered pace that it felt like it might burst at any time. But I couldn't stop or even slow for a moment – it was there, right on my heels. Its presence saturated the air and bore down on me with greater and greater force every step I took. _Will I die? _I feared what would happen if I didn't make it, but the familiar sights invigorated me and pushed me along between the rocky structures toward the ladders leading back up to the village.

After another minute or maybe even seconds, the ladders came into view, and through the panic, relief gained a brief foothold. I leapt at the highest ladder I could reach, grabbing a rung well above eye level, and clumsily, frantically climbed upward, my feet missing their mark and slipping between the rung at a horrifying rate. Below, I could feel the darkness pushing and pulling at me. _Is it still coming?_ I couldn't look. At the very least, the light from my tail seemed brighter.

At the top, I quickly grabbed at the latch to open the steel door separating the caves from the village and pulled with all my might. The door didn't budge.

_Oh no._ I tried again, with the same results. _Oh no._ The relief I had felt evaporated instantly. Why wouldn't the door open? Why was it sealed again? _Why?_ _Why?_

The sense of pursuit, though it had not faded, set in again with renewed force as I felt the thing climbing the shaft below me. I had to get inside. Now. I pounded on the door as hard as I could with both front paws and rammed it with my shoulder and yelled for anyone who could hear me to open it. The calls went unanswered for what felt like ages, but when I'd just about given up hope, I heard something on the other side of the door. A locking mechanism! Someone was there! Gears and latches inside the door clanged against each other for a few seconds and then it was flung open, showering me in white light. Standing silhouetted in the doorway was the figure of a human, drenched in the scent of blood, with some sort of small animal in one hand and a glinting knife in the other.

"Nakani?! The hell's goin' on out here?"

I was through the door in a second flat and had it shut and sealed in a second more.


	8. Shadows - Visitors

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki looks for respite back in Cosmo Canyon. Two unwanted visitors come calling. A pdf of the entire third section of the story, titled Shadows (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Visitors

I was too out of breath to speak for several moments after sealing the door behind me. Ruger stood by with a perplexed expression on his face – not really concerned, as I would have expected, but more so just confused. Eventually, though, my heart slowed, the crushing fear left my head, and my voice made its way back between my panting breaths.

"Thank you…" was all I said at first.

"The hell is going on?" Ruger asked again.

"There…there's something down there… I don't know what it is…"

"Eh? You okay? Ya hurt?"

"No… No, I don't think so."

"Well, what was it? Do I needa go grab my rifle?"

I didn't answer for a moment. "…No, I think we will be okay as long as that door stays shut."

Ruger still looked perplexed. I saw now why he smelled of blood. His hands were almost completely red. The animal in his hand was just a skin, and the knife he held was for skinning. He took a step back and then walked into the kitchen while keeping an eye on me.

"You got me a little worried there, Nak. Quiet guy like yourself doesn' jus' go bangin' on a door like that on a whim. Not unless he's about ta have 'is head removed from 'is shoulders, ya know?" Ruger walked up to a table in the kitchen, on which lay the carcass he'd just finished skinning. A pile of animals was laid out on the floor beside the table, evidently still waiting to be skinned.

As he picked the carcass up and got back to work, reason began to return to me. I had been running for my life not five minutes before, yet now, sitting by the sealed door in the lit confines of the village, I suddenly felt foolish. _Removed from my shoulders? Is that what I was…_

"So wha'd it look like?" Ruger called over his shoulder to me as he cut away at the carcass.

I didn't know how to answer. "I… I can't really say… Didn't get a good look…" That was the best I could come up with. With the fear fading away, even thinking, let alone saying, that it was a shapeshifting shadow monster sounded ridiculous.

"So how d'ya know it was even dangerous then? Didn' get a good look, don't know what it was. Maybe it was a moogle. Jus' wanted a hug, eh?"

I ran back over everything I remembered in my mind and found that I was unsure if I had seen anything at all or if my mind was playing tricks as I'd originally thought. _I swear I did… It was there… It chased me… Right? _"A feeling…"

"Hm," was Ruger's response. He went to work on the carcass in front of him, cutting off a slab of muscle in a quick slicing motion. A fresh scent of blood wafted across the floor and found its way to my nose.

"…What are you doing?" I asked after a moment of watching him work.

"Cuttin' some meat from my trip today for dinner."  
"I see. How was your luck? Did you make any progress finding your animal?"

"Yes 'n no. I kinda knew the second I left the village today I wasn't gonna see 'im, but hey, that's part of the game. Just have to wait for the right chance to get 'im."

It felt like there was more he was going to say, but after a moment of silence, it seemed as though he had decided he was done. He worked away, and I was left to speak up instead.

"Hm. Well I'm sorry to... eh…kill the conversation," I said, rubbing my forehead with a trembling paw, "but I'm really not feeling well right n—" I was interrupted by a sudden violent growl from my stomach. I was both surprised and oddly embarrassed at the sound. I had forgotten in the course of my sprinting through the caves just how hungry I was. The smell of Ruger's kills had evidently worked its way to my stomach.

"Holy smokes, Nak. You okay back there? Sounded painful."

"I...ah… Yeah I'm fine. It's just been a while since I've eaten."

"I gotcha… You want one a these?" Ruger looked over his shoulder and held a good-sized hare up by the ears for me to see.

"…If you don't mind."

"Alrighty, how you want it? As is, or you want me to cook it up?

Truth be told I had never cared for cooked meat. I'd eaten my share of it in my time, but given the choice, it was not at the top of the list. As "civilized" as cooking food is, it just has never tasted right to me. Tastes… not fake, but… I'm not sure of the proper word for it. Still, around humans, I felt obligated to bite the bullet, so to speak, and eat what was cooked for me. I always worried that the other way might be offensive to them – it was messier to be sure.

"If you can cook, that works for me," I decided. I was perplexed by Ruger's lack of response to my panicked state after having come out of the caves. How was it that a hunter of his caliber had no interest in finding whatever had been chasing me? Something about this whole conversation felt…off.

"Hehe, honestly not the answer I was expectin' there, Nak. You don't seem like the type to go for home cookin'."

"It's an acquired taste, but I manage."

"Ya sure? Y' ain't gonna gross me out or nothin' if you want it raw. One thing I've learned over the years is there's no accounting fer taste. Y'are who y'are ultimately."

"No, it's fine. Cook it up, and I'll eat it."

Ruger paused for a moment as if he were trying to remember something. "Viri sunt viri, Nak," he said at last in a deliberate tone.

"What's that?" I asked. I thought I hadn't heard him correctly – it sounded like another language altogether.

"Means you are who you are, or something like that. Somethin' my mama used ta tell me when I was young. Bein' someone else jus' gets things all outta whack, so sometimes you just gotta be yourself." He was oddly insistent that I eat that hare raw. It was slightly alarming.

I thought the words over in my head. "…I don't think that's right," I said hesitantly.

"What?"

"Viri sunt viri. I don't think that's quite right."

"What's it mean then? You callin' my mom a liar?"

My chest tightened at the word liar. "No, no. I… It just… Let's just cook the food, okay?" The words came out more as a plea than a request.

Ruger laughed heartily without looking back at me. A quick glance revealed he had already begun skinning the hare. "Just messin' with ya. Cooked, it is. Better for your health anyway. Get's ridda all the lil' buggers and parasites these guys get out in the wild. I'll get this guy outta his skin and on the stove here in a sec. You wanna hang around till he's done? I can come get ya in a bit otherwise."

"I think I'm going to head up to the observatory until it's done if that is okay with you."

"Alrighty then, Nak. I'll catch ya in a bit." Ruger glanced over his shoulder long enough to wink at me and mock shoot me with the same gun-like hand gesture he'd used a few nights before.

_Catch you in a… _It struck me just as oddly as before and made me just as uncomfortable. I left without saying another word.

The observatory was dark as I entered – the sun had long since set, and there was no sign of the moon in the night sky. As I stood in the doorway and looked around at the darkened room, I became aware of a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, similar yet distinct from what I'd felt in the caves. It felt as though there was something I needed to do that I just didn't have the energy or motivation to do. Somehow, I felt it was tied to Ruger, that feeling of dread, but I didn't know what it was. I wished I had refused the food he offered. I wished he wasn't coming up once it was cooked. I wanted to speak to someone, but there was no one I wanted to speak to. I wanted to sleep, but the feeling of dread made me restless, like sleeping was a waste of time I could not afford. It was a strange feeling that I could not quite understand, and it stormed relentlessly through my mind as I stood silently in the dark at the threshold of the observatory.

"Hm…" I said to no one. "Perhaps I'll tell Vincent about you." _Next time…_ _Still so far off…_

Reluctantly, I reached a paw forward, flipped on a light inside the doorway, and entered, closing the door behind me. On a whim, I tried to run Grandfather Bugenhagen's planetarium exhibit, but it did not work. Something inside was broken. I tried feebly for a minute or two to fix it, but I might as well have been trying to build a rocketship. Electrical panels, inactive materia, schematics, buttons, switches, screws, levers, gears… I quickly became frustrated, and before long I quit. The feeling of dread intensified as I walked back to the main living area. I looked around again, and, finding nothing of interest, sighed and sat down. The light, coming from a single overhead fixture, beamed statically down on a small, square table and bathed the room in a wash of deep yellow. The silence in the room was deafening, and despite the furniture and the small makeshift kitchen, it all felt empty. Dead.

My mind relaxed after a few moments, and gradually, the feeling of dread descended and transformed into an unfocused haze that laid itself over me like a blanket. I looked at nothing in particular and had no clear thought process, yet my mind was at work on something. Slowly to the surface of the haze rose a single thought, a question, which presented itself so clearly that it was all I could think about for several minutes.

_What if I weren't here?_ _What if I weren't… here?_

What did I mean by that? Where would I be? Why had it even come up? Somewhere deep down, I think I knew what I meant, but nonetheless, I wondered why. The thought had never occurred to me in all the years of my life up to that point, through all the trials and hardships I had endured, so why should I think that way now? Why so suddenly? Was it a means of escape?

_I'm just so…tired of it. …And nothing of importance would be lost. If I weren't here, then… _A sudden wave of revulsion struck me. _Coward. How could you just run away? He didn't teach you that way. That you could even think of it is pure cowardice. If he were here, he would… I wish he were. Maybe then…_

The light above me flickered slightly, drawing me briefly to the edge of the haze. It didn't last, however. After a few seconds the haze descended again, and I continued.

_But why? I've helped so many people, there's no way it would be…better… …Perhaps I'm overstating my own importance. I am only myself, after all, and the world is so much grander. Have I really changed anything? All those people, and I've still ended up here, sitting in this observatory, alone… Perhaps that is the problem though. I am only myself. And that is my own failure…_

The thoughts swirled in my head, drawing me deeper and deeper in, until I lost sight of the question I'd asked. Time seemed to drag and expand, and the yellow light faded to a dull gray. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, and I just wished for it to end. But there was nothing. Grays and blacks, contours and edges, shadows and afterimages, fatigue of the body and mind.

_If only there were someone else to—_

A knock at the front door ripped me from the haze. I snapped to attention and was unable to make sense of the situation for a brief moment. _Did I fall asleep? What time is it_? I wondered hopefully if I had missed Ruger's dinner and then wondered how long the knocking had been going, and who it might be. After a few seconds of gathering myself, I rose to my feet and answered the door, expecting Ruger on the other side. Instead, it was Marcus, wearing a new set of clothing and a concerned scowl on his face that betrayed his age.

"Hello Marcus," I said almost too quietly. "You smell much better than you did this morning. Enjoyed the shower, did you?"

"Nanaki," he greeted me in response. "Do you have a minute?"

"Erm… Yes, sure." This was not the response I had expected. "Would you like to come in?"

"I was hoping you would ask." I stepped aside and he entered quickly. Something about his body language slightly worried me. He found a spot near the ladder leading to the second floor and turned rigidly around and looked at the ground in front of him.

"Is there something wrong Marcus?" I asked.

"Well…" He paused for a moment and then looked up at me with a concerned look in his eyes. "I spoke to Elder Phoenix about it earlier, and you and I have already talked about some of it… And I know how much Cosmo Canyon and the study of Planet Life mean to you, so I… I mean… I gotta be blunt and say it again: I don't like having these hunters in the canyon."

I said nothing. His statement struck the same chord of dread in the pit of my stomach that I had been dealing with since I'd returned from the caves. _This again… Can't catch a break._

"I said it before, and I'll say it again–" He spoke with sudden conviction, thinly disguised anger overtaking the concern on his face. "—They're an affront to what this village stands for, and they disrespect it with every step and every breath they take. Since they've moved in, they've laughed or made jokes at every mention of the cycle of Planet Life, ridiculed us for studying it… And they're trashing the village without even a second thought. I'm seriously close to losing it."

"I see…" I wondered what could possibly have happened since that morning to set him off so badly. "I've honestly not been in the village much today, so I haven't heard any of this beyond what we talked about in the forest. What did Elder Phoenix have to say about it?"

"I don't think he's heard anything of it either. Can't imagine he missed the drunken mess they left around the Candle the other night, or the mess they're making down in the pub right now. All he said was that I should just 'wait out the storm,' but… I don't know… If he heard the things they're saying, he wouldn't be so laissez-faire about this."

"…What exactly are they saying?"

He seemed almost offended that I had asked. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, trying to think of something that had been said, searching for just the right example, but his lips didn't move at first. Perhaps at that moment the realization dawned on him that none of it was bad enough to merit him being so worked up. Perhaps he saw that it was just a bunch of people, ill-informed and ill-behaved, making short-sighted but ultimately innocuous jokes. Perhaps he saw that he might be overreacting ever so slightly. "It's a lot of things." Perhaps not. "Just really crude, abrasive stuff. It's like they're trying to pick a fight or something," he said finally. "When you visit the world's leading center of scientific research on Planet Life and you spit in the faces of the people conducting that research… It just isn't right. I can't deal with it. Think I'm gonna have to get out of here if it keeps up, go back to the forest or something."

Perhaps, then, I would have to say it. "I understand the sentiment, Marcus. I really do. It's unfortunate that they feel that way, and it's unfortunate that they're showing it in the way they are, but there's really not a whole lot to be done about it. …One thing I've learned as I've gotten older is that not everyone has the same desire for knowledge that you may have. People don't all want to know why the Lifestream works the way it does or what causes biodiversity around the world. It's enough that things work as they are. There are even a lot of people that are offended by it. Truth be told, jokes are probably the least harmful way of expressing that."

Marcus interrupted me. "So you're saying there's a lot of irrepressible stupidity out there."

"Eh… No, no I'm not. I'm saying humans all have their own views. For many, that means that there doesn't always have to be an empirical answer to life. For some, their beliefs clash so forcefully with ours that they feel the only way for their beliefs to be right is for ours to be wrong. It doesn't matter how much science or evidence there is to back us up. Their beliefs are their own, and nothing will get in their way." I paused to try to decide what I wanted to say. "…It doesn't make them stupid. Just different. And even if they can't respect us, it's our duty as representatives of our discipline to respect them."

"That's about what Elder Phoenix said…" Marcus sounded dejected, as though he expected a different answer from me. "…Nanaki… I don't trust them… I can't. You shouldn't either." I opened my mouth to speak, but Marcus continued on. "They've been talking about you too." And then he clammed up. He looked like he immediately regretted what he had said.

I shut my mouth and listened. For a moment he said nothing, but my silence eventually dragged the words out of him.

"They've been saying terrible things. When they think no one is listening, they say that hunter, Ruger, is here after a different rare animal than some hippogriff. They talk about how you have the best pelt in the canyon, how you would look stuffed and mounted. Things along those lines. Do you understand? They don't look at you as anything more than a rug, a walking trophy, and they hardly do anything to hide that fact."

My mouth was open again, but I couldn't find any words. Feebly, I began sounding out a sentence. "I- I…" The thought ran involuntarily through my head again: _What if I weren't here?_ "…Did you tell this to Elder Phoenix too?"

"No. I thought you should know first. It's your business, not his, so I thought it was something you would want to deal with in your own way."

_How do I deal with this?_ In all my years, I had run across this situation only once before – a single hunter who took a few poorly aimed (and poorly conceived) shots at me. One hunter… And now, with an entire village full of them… I had no idea what to do. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't be telling you now if I weren't. It's not just a matter of respect. Some of the people here are dangerous. They don't look at you with the same eyes we do, Nanaki. They're dangerous and they're self-seeking. You have to be caref—"

Marcus was interrupted by a knock at the door. The feeling in the pit of my stomach spiked.

"Hey Nakani, you in there?" Ruger yelled outside.

I glanced at the door and then back at Marcus. He did the same in tandem, and when our sight met, I could see the anger and mistrust in his eyes, directed not at me but at Ruger. Marcus was absolutely serious about the claims he made, and his emotions were genuine. "You know as well as I do we don't have hippogriffs here in the canyon, Nanaki. Only griffins. He's not here for a hippogriff."

"I'll… take care of it, Marcus. Thank you for telling me. As for you, try to keep yourself clear of all this. Listen to Elder Phoenix, okay? He has the final say on the matter, and in this case, it is probably for the best that we be as diplomatic as possible." As a final note, I added, "Not to mention, they have the majority of the guns."

Marcus watched me closely, and possibly seeing that I was unsure how to proceed, let the fire in his eyes die down a bit. The knocking came at the door again.

"-Ey Nak, your food's gettin' cold out here. C'mon now."

Marcus nodded. "Please be careful." He turned toward the front door and flung it open. For just a split-second, he seemed to stop to stare down Ruger, but as he forced his way past him and left into the night, I thought perhaps it was just my imagination.

Ruger, carrying a plate of meat in one hand and a charred, utterly blackened skinless hare on a stick in the other, stepped forward into the yellow light and used a foot to shut the door behind him. "Waugh, that took a little longer than expected."

I said nothing.

"Real nice setup you got in that kitchen downstairs," he continued, walking past me toward the table by the stove. "Nice little grill, pretty even heat 'n all that." He sat down at the table with his plate and laid the hare out across from him for me. "Need a better selection 'a spices though. We'll see how this is. –You comin' over? Thought you were hungry." Impatiently, Ruger waved his hand at me, beckoning me to the table to eat.

Almost against my will, I joined him, jumping up into a chair opposite him and glancing at the hare apprehensively.

"You didn' want a fork or nothin', right?" Ruger asked, one set of silverware having suddenly materialized in his hand. Where had it come from? Had it been there the whole time?

"Err… No, I will be fine."

"Hm. 'At's what I thought. You any good with a knife and fork?" he asked, drawing attention to my paws by flexing his fingers.

"I've never really had occasion to use them honestly. I'm sure I could manage it, given the proper motivation and a bit of practice."

Ruger gripped his fork tightly in his right hand and skewered a large slab of meat on his plate. "See, now that's interesting to me," he said as he brought the meat to his mouth and bit a chunk out of it. "Ever since I saw you yesterday, I been tryin' ta figure you out. Almost asked you about it the other night in the pub, but we got a little sidetracked with that Mornin' Star." He paused for a moment to chew and swallow, and then pointed at the hare in front of me. "Eat. You're startin' ta make me uncomfortable."

I looked down at the hare and studied it, trying to decide, I think, if I really wanted to eat it. Again, I wished that I had declined the food and that Ruger hadn't come._ Nothing I can do now, I suppose… but it will be over soon. _I reached forward with a forepaw and pulled the animal closer to me. It was thoroughly overcooked, blackened almost to the point of being unrecognizable. It was hard too, not just on the surface, but all the way through, and it smelled strongly of charcoal. Ruger quite plainly could not cook. The moment of deliberation past, I pinned the hare under my foot and bent my head to the table to take a bite. As soon as my teeth hit the charred surface of the animal, the taste of salt assaulted my mouth. It was overpowering – my salivary glands turned on like a burst dam, most likely to try to get the taste back out of my mouth the way it came. My eye watered, and I involuntarily paused, only my canines piercing the surface. I felt like I was drooling, and I was well aware of Ruger watching me with a curious expression on his face.

He saw something, saliva or otherwise, which he gladly mistook for my approval of the food. "Like you died and went ta Heaven, eh Nak? My mama taught me how ta cook way back when I was a lil'un. Isn' all that hard really. Few spices here 'n there, cook it till it's done, and voila!" He smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way.

_Like I died anyway. _My jaws begrudgingly clamped shut, and I pulled a mouthful of tough, dry meat from the black mass. As I gnawed on it in the back of my mouth, I became aware again of just how hungry I was. Terrible though the food may have been, I could make myself eat it. Anything to fill my stomach. _It isn't all that bad… _After a few more futile attempts at chewing, I swallowed. It scraped my throat painfully all the way down.

"Good, eh? Ruger asked, fishing for a compliment.

I smacked my lips, trying to get some moisture back into my mouth to speak. "It's… not that bad…"


	9. Shadows - Crossed Wires

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki and Ruger butt heads over a meal, and Nanaki shares the truth about Gilligan. A pdf of the entire third section of the story, titled Shadows (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Crossed Wires

We ate in silence for a few painful minutes, Ruger basking in his own cooking prowess as I suffered through it. About the time I had taken my final miserable bite, Ruger dropped his fork onto the table and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"Augh, I'm stuffed. How 'bout you, Nak?"

"I think I'm done too." The taste had overwhelmed me so thoroughly at that point that I could taste nothing at all. I had always made do with cooked food in the past, regardless of my preference for raw meat, but I feared permanent damage to my tongue from this meal, so I thought it probably best that I be done with it.

"Hehe. Glad to hear you liked it. Kinda surprised to tell you the truth. Really didn' figure cooked food would be up your alley."

"What can I say? Full of surprises, I guess."

Ruger smiled slyly and said, "It's true. You know, I've never seen anything quite like you before. And I've seen a lot in my time. Never even heard of you 'afore I got here. Why is that?"

"Well… I've been travelling since before you were born. Difficult to track a moving target in a world as big as ours." I regretted my choice of words, although I supposed I could use them as a litmus test based on his reaction to them.

A quick, amused exhalation through his nose was his response. I was not sure what to make of it. "Well you're here now. So let's talk."

"I'm not really in the m-"

"Where's your favorite place you been since you started travellin'?"

He was not going to take 'no' for an answer. I thought for a moment and then spoke. "I spent some time travelling through a forest many years back. Actually, I lived in that forest for several years. Maybe not my favorite place, but it was the place where I learned perhaps the most about myself and developed the principles by which I live today. It was a gorgeous place, full of life…" Thinking of the forest brought back memories of the bear cubs I had fostered there, and… a twinge of pain flashed across the face my heart.

"Yeah? Forest, eh? For me, it'd have to be this cave system high up in the mountains southwest of where I grew up. You know where the old Mythril Mines were? 'Round there somewhere. Really great rock formations inside. Had a big freshwater lake in one of the caves that had water clear as crystal in it. Place was lit up by all sorts a diff'rent materia too, so you didn' even need a flashlight. There were fish in the lake, 'n I guess they'd never seen a human before, 'cause you could wade right up to 'em in the water 'n pull 'em out by hand. Easiest fishin' I ever did. There was a couple months one year that I saw this big bear in the caves, was doin' exactly the same thing. So, I went up there one day with the rifle I was usin' at the time and I waited for that bear to come and distract himself with fishin'. I musta waited for two or three days fer that bugger ta come back, all holed up in a little alcove about 15 feet up the side 'a one of the walls, but all I got out of it was boredom and a crick in my neck that lasted for two weeks. Never saw the damn thing. Like it knew I was there."

"Well, they aren't stupid, you know. Aren't blind either."

"Yeah, obviously not. I sat there, thinkin' 'bout what I was gonna do when I shot it – skin it, get me some meat for the family, maybe get it taxidermied. Mount it on a wall 'r something. No luck though. In any case, I put the fear of the Ancients inta those fish while I was waitin'. Ate damn well… Caves still have a special place in my heart, even after all these years – maybe jus' because I never did get that bear. One 'a the few fish that got away, you might say."

I had not heard the last sentence or two of what he said. I wanted to say something. Something to voice the disgust that his story had stirred up inside me. I wanted to tell him what I thought of him trying to kill this bear while it was merely trying to survive. Trying to steal this bear's life and disrespecting it by putting its dead body on display for his entertainment. I wanted to describe to him the pain of seeing the bear cubs I'd spent years of my life raising… Seeing them after they were slain and butchered by hunters like him in a single night while I slept. The thought of their bodies strung up in slings at the hunters' camp, bleeding out into the night, invaded my mind, and I could do nothing but focus on it. I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

_Say something. Why don't you say anything?_ It was all I could think of – it repeated over and over in my mind at a hushed, quickening pace, laid over the top over their bodies, glistening black, hanging in the darkness. My gaze dulled, and I began looking inward, trying to answer my question. But as hard as I tried, I couldn't get past it. It was as though there were an invisible wall corralling me in. I was stuck, but I couldn't see why.

"'ey," I heard Ruger call from somewhere ahead of me.

I glanced up at him and wondered if I had missed something he had said.

"You cold or somethin'?"

I looked down at my feet and realized I was shaking all over. I did not know for how long it had been occurring, but Ruger's question had made me aware of it. The skin on my lower back twitched erratically, and my legs felt weak. _Let me be. Please, _I pleaded inwardly. Mercifully, the shaking mostly subsided over the next few seconds. I could feel it still in my muscles though, waiting just under the surface for another chance to ripple forth. "No, I'm fine," I said feebly.

"What was 'at all about?

_Just tell him._ "It was…" _Maybe I should talk to Elder Phoenix about it first. _

"Yeah?" Ruger expected an explanation.

I took a deep breath and found the confidence to speak. After all the time it had been bothering me the past few days, perhaps it would do some good just to talk about it, even if it was with…him. "…I'm not sure I know how to explain it. At least not without sounding crazy. I mean, even to me it doesn't seem normal, but… I don't know how it would sound to you."

"Well, try me. You're a talkin' animal, so I figure crazy's a little bit subjective lately."

I made a concerted effort to dredge the words up, and when I spoke, they sounded awkward coming from my mouth. "Okay, I will try… There were several years before I began travelling that my thoughts were troubled. There was no singular event in my life that led to the problem, but instead, it was one that sneaked up on me gradually so that I didn't notice it until it was directly upon me, attacking with its full force…" I paused to collect myself again before I continued.

"I called it Gilligan. It was a kind of a… like a soul inside of me. No shape and no substance, but it was most certainly there, and it agonized me relentlessly for so long that I feared it would never leave. It was like a void inside of me that enveloped everything I knew in darkness." I had already said too much, but the words kept coming. "I could…I could see people's faces in it, writhing like they were in pain, or… I don't know… But when I saw Gilligan, it made me shake. I would just lose control. I could hardly even stand at times. It was frightening. I didn't understand it, and like I said, it plagued me for years.

"…So when I started travelling, Gilligan seemed to subside a bit. I thought it was because of the names I gave the places I saw, the way I catalogued the world away as I travelled… The more I learned the quieter Gilligan became, like it was suppressed by that knowledge…the context of the world I built around me. …A long time passed… I lived with Gilligan and was largely able to minimize its effect on me despite the fact that I couldn't understand from where it had come… I travelled from place to place, and for a few years I lived in a forest – the same one I was just telling you about – between here and Nibelheim with a pair of bear cubs. I actually raised them, up until…" At this point, I faltered.

_Just tell him, _my mind said to me. But the right words would not come, and so I continued on. "In the end, I thought I gained an understanding of what Gilligan truly was. And after that, it went away. I understood it, and it disappeared. It had been so long since my last encounter with it that I thought maybe it was gone for good, but…the past few days it's been bothering me again. Been getting worse and worse." I took a deep, shaky breath, and my eye involuntarily teared up. I felt close to breaking, guilty somehow over my admission of Gilligan's existence, over my own weakness.

Ruger was wide-eyed, leaned back in his chair and frozen in place. He seemed absolutely speechless, at least for a brief few seconds. "I… Wow… Uh…" were the first three utterances from his mouth, followed shortly thereafter by, "Well… Gilligan, eh? …Kinda wish I hadn' asked."

"And I wish I hadn't said anything."

"Well…yeah." He was clearly in over his head. Part of me found a dark satisfaction in his flailing about for words, and part of me was embarrassed. "I'll be honest with ya there, Nak. That ain't normal. Your little Gilligan sounds like some sorta neuromental problem 'r somethin'. 'N all that shakin' you were just doin' kinda backs me up on that. You don' shake like that unless you're freezin' or ya got some crossed wires upstairs."

"If I knew how to fix the wires, you can be sure I would, but unfortunately I'm without an answer. My travels seemed to help, but I could always feel it inside, waiting. I thought it was the influx of knowledge, everything that I learned about and named and catalogued… But they were just distractions. Something to bide my time while Gilligan rested beneath the surface."

"Well let's think about it now. What makes Gilligan do 'is thing? What is it gets you shakin' and shiverin'? What did it just now?"

"I… I don't know." I did not elaborate on my lie. I would not speak any further on it.

"No? Well, you pay attention next time. Can't solve the problem if ya don' look at it, eh? We were talkin' 'bout our favorite places. You were tellin' me about your forest, I was talking 'bout my caves. That help at all?"

_I know what we were talking about. _"No."

Ruger glanced out of the corner of his eyes away from me and furrowed his face up into a quizzical expression. "Hmph. Well you're certainly makin' this difficult."

"I'm sorry."

Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "—Hey I been meanin' ta ask. I feel like I been gettin' some ugly looks from a lot a your villagers since I got here. I'm not used to that so much. Usually people can't get enough 'a me, an' I get the star treatment, that sort of thing. You know what the deal is?"

"You got the best room in the inn, didn't you? That's about as close to 'star treatment' as it gets in Cosmo Canyon. We're a very pragmatic village. Not much for glitz and glamour or celebrity worship, if that's what you're after."

"Yeah, yeah, I didn' expect too much of it. I jus' mean… You know what it means, someone givin' you the stink eye?"

I nodded. "I do. Like a glare. You've been given the…stink eye… around town?"

"More times in the last 24 hours than in the last 24 months. A lot from your friend who was here before. Marquez?"

"Erm… Marcus, I think."

"Close enough. You knew who I was talkin' about." Ruger threw his hands up as he said it, a gesture of slight annoyance. "You know what the deal is or not?"

"Well…. No. I mean, not for certain, no."

"Then you have some idea."

"Well… If I were to speculate, I would… I would say the looks would be due to your chosen…profession."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

_Eugh. _I again regretted having spoken. "It doesn't mean anything," I blurted out reflexively. "It's just… This village is a center for the study of Planet Life. The investigation of the Lifestream, the flow of spirit energy, the change in life over time… the interconnected tapestry that all life has been woven into. And beyond the work that people do here, there's a general culture of respect for life. People look at hunting as killing for entertainment, and that's an affront to that culture of respect. So you get ugly looks from them." I added after a brief pause, "That's if I were to speculate."

"Jeez, tell me whatcha really think there, Nak."

"My views aren't quite so polarized as those of some other villagers here."

"Oh really? Well I guess the same could be said of me."

I raised my brow just slightly, trying to figure out what Ruger meant. The gesture did not go unnoticed.

"About that Planet Life stuff. Lotta folks camped out down by your campfire don' really believe in all that. You know, how the planet's alive, 'n everythin's made of spirit energy, 'n life's changin' over time, jus' too slow to ever see it. Some 'a them are pretty militant about it too. Would throw a punch 'r two over it if it came down to it."

_Don't 'believe?' _"And you?"

"My views aren't quite so polarized as theirs," he said, obviously mimicking me, or possibly mocking me. "I think prolly y'all are on the right track with what yer doin', but ya just don' got the evidence to back up your theories yet."

"Hypotheses."

"Eh?"

"Hypotheses. Theories are something differ—"

Ruger interrupted almost before I even spoke. "There you go, correctin' me again. You do that a lot, ya know? If ya knew what I was sayin', then what's the point? This is why you types got such a crappy reputation out there in the real world. Gotta have all yer fancy words for everythin', 'n Heaven forbid someone mix one of 'em up."

_Yeesh. That was a mistake. _"My apologies. Live for a couple hundred years, and some of the smallest things will start to get under your skin."

"Yeah well… You be careful, talkin' like that to people with guns. Do that to the wrong person… A human might get punched out, but someone like you might get shot."

_Someone like me?_ A streak of adrenaline shot through me, and for a moment, the observatory around me pulsed red. An electric sensation prickled down my neck and spread throughout my body, trembling frenziedly in my joints and standing my fur on end. The air in my nostrils burned with each breath I drew in. I knew I was close to doing something I would regret. And again, it did not go unnoticed.

"What?" Ruger asked eyeing me suspiciously. "Why're you lookin' at me like that? D'I say somethin'? I mean I didn'… I don't have my guns with me. I mean, even if I did, I mean…this isn' the kinda place… You know… I wouldn'… I mean, not over somethin' like that."

Watching Ruger trip over his words brought a bit of levity back to the situation. The red haze faded away, and a thought popped into my mind, chased by an inexplicable feeling of guilt. _ Take away your guns and you're still just a human. Nothing to worry about. _As I pondered the guilt, I became aware why I had unnerved Ruger. In the haze, I had dropped my head a bit and was looking straight through him from under my brow. I hadn't seen him at all, but now as my mind cleared and my sight focused on him,I could plainly see the concern on his face. I smirked, just a bit.

Ruger followed suit, although I imagined it was to hide his apprehension. "Listen, I feel like we got down a wrong path here all've a sudden. Maybe we jus' do an about-face 'n head the other way, eh Nak?"

I thought about it for a moment and then decided otherwise. "I think it's an interesting path we're on. 'Someone like me…' I think that's the crux of the problem – what the villagers here take issue with when it comes to… people like you."

He was hesitant to continue on the subject, but he humored me. "How's that?" he asked with a slight air of curiosity.

"Well, it's tied to something I've put a lot of thought into over the years. 'Why do humans hunt?' The obvious answer would be that it's for food, but I think we both know that's not true. With the domestication of livestock the world over, and the existence agriculture across the central plains of both the eastern and western continents, food is hardly an issue for humans. At the very least, there's a choice. You don't have to hunt to survive. So the question remains: Why? Is it for protection? There certainly are dangerous animals out there, and monsters too, so that would make sense. It's where you fall out of the pack, I think." I saw Ruger crack a self-satisfied smile as I spoke, but it disappeared as soon as I continued. "But has everything you've hunted been a menace to humanity? My understanding of your career is that it has been built on the premise of hunting **rare** animals, not just dangerous ones. And I'm well aware that the most popular game animals for hunting pose no threat to humanity whatsoever."

"There's a lot of reasons, Nak. I think you're bein' a little disingenuous. There's some people just like bein' outdoors, bein' out in nature, ya know?"

"And so they go out and kill nature? Is that what humans do to the things they like? They shoot them? 'This is beautiful, I think I'll destroy it because I like it so much?' Something along those lines?"

"Well… no, I mean…"

"If you can't kill it and put your hands on its dead body, it can't be appreciated?" Nailing Ruger to the wall was decidedly a better outlet than violence for the anger he'd incited in me.

"You know that's not what I'm tryin' to say, Nak. And these 'popular' animals you're talkin' about, it's not like they're at any risk of dyin' out 'r anythin'. World ain't runnin' low on hares last I checked." He motioned at my half-empty plate of charred meat. "An' anyways, lots of animals would be in bad shape if huntin' didn' keep their populations in check. Get too many of 'em 'n then there's not enough food to go around, 'n then you got animals sufferin' 'n starvin'. No good."

"It's true that agonizing, slow deaths are terrible, but sometimes that's the way nature works. Not every death is swift and painless. Goodness knows that. And it's a little disingenuous of you to expect me to believe that every other hunter out there only hunts because he is doing his part to control animals' population sizes." I paused to give Ruger a chance to respond, and when he didn't, I continued. "At the end of the day, I think there are only two real, truthful justifications humans can make for hunting. One is that the act of killing is an accomplishment – one that reasserts their superiority, their dominion over nature. The other is that from the act of killing, humans derive entertainment, a sense of satisfaction and pleasure. To get back to my original point, that's what 'people like me' take issue with concerning 'people like you.' Instead of living in tandem with the world, you live above it. There's a kind of 'us against them' mentality that has you concerned with dominating the natural world rather than embracing it."

Ruger was quiet, but the look on his face spoke volumes. His upper lip was drawn down stiffly as if he were trying to bite at the inside of his cheeks, and his eyes were fixed on me, his brow was furrowed up as if to ask 'are you serious?' After a moment, he spoke. "You're way up there on your high horse, ain't ya Nak?" He paused for a response to his obviously rhetorical question and then continued. "First off, you think nature won't hesitate to kick you straight in the ass if you turn your back on it at the wrong moment? It doesn' take any prisoners, human or otherwise, so keepin' it in its place takes vigilance and, yeah, sometimes killing. Second, I don' see what it matters if we enjoy killin'. It's in our blood to kill, and it's the only reason we've lasted as long as we have on this planet, so why's it a problem, embracing that? However far away from our roots we get in life, gettin' tied up in our cities 'n machines 'n electronics, huntin's always there to take us back to our primal roots. Lets us know who we are. And I don' see where you get off criticizin' us for enjoying the thrill of the kill when you've spent your whole life doin' the exact same thing. Or have you never killed anything before?"

"Not for entertainment. I kill for food and, if it is necessary, to defend myself.

"Oh come on now. We both know that's bullshit. You talk all high 'n mighty, but ultimately, you are what you are: a predator. And somewhere deep down inside, you know you enjoy the taste of fresh blood on your tongue. You might try to keep it hidden away, but it's there all the same." He leaned forward over the table and dropped his voice as he spoke until it was so low and gruff, he was nearly growling the words at me. "Deny it if you want, but you know you enjoy feeling that last breath slip out of your prey's mouth before it kicks off and heads back to the planet, 'r whatever you think it does. You were made to kill, and you're lyin' to yourself if you say otherwise."

I sat in my spot, wide-eyed. I couldn't believe what he had just said, nor could I believe the tone in which he'd said it. I wanted to tell him to leave, but I was honestly shocked beyond words.

When he spoke next, the tone of his voice had changed so dramatically that it made me wonder if perhaps I had completely imagined his previous ominous tone. "Unless of course you think those claws 'a yours are fer scratchin' itches. Or that those teeth a yours are for eatin' fruit."

I knew he was joking, but it took a moment for me to catch on to the fact that he was once again mocking me, and when I did, I almost instantly saw the red haze creep back into the room from the corner of my vision. "How I feel is irrelevant," I said tersely. "When I kill, I kill with purpose. I don't do it to prove myself. I don't do it to 'keep nature in its place' or to 'connect to my primal roots.' And I certainly don't do it for entertainment. I do it to survive, whether or not my instincts are satisfied."

"Purpose is subjective, Nak. You're not gonna convince me or anyone else otherwise." The mocking tone was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced again by a deathly serious tone. "If mine's not good enough fer you, that's on you, not me."

The haze hung stagnantly in the air, holding its position as though it were listening carefully to the conversation. My anger turned slightly to frustration. "But doesn't it bother you at all? If what you believe is true, that everything about the cycle of spirit energy and planet life is wrong, doesn't it bother you to think that when you kill an animal, you're wiping it out of existence? You're removing that consciousness from being. If death is it, if something dies and that's the end of the story, don't you feel any remorse or compassion for ending it?"

"Nak, an animal is an animal. It ain't a human. It's an animal. An' the world isn' gonna end because've me or anyone else huntin' animals. Plus, seein' as I don' have any neuromental hallucinations givin' me seizures over little things like that, I'm happy jus' to do as I please."

I was done talking. Ruger wasn't. I found myself watching the floor as he spoke, quietly gritting my teeth.

"You know, we really ain't all that diff'rent, you 'n me, Nak. We're both outdoorsmen at heart. We both want to see the world, 'n see what it's got to show us. We're both hunters. We both live for the kill, regardless of which of us admits it. Only difference is you do it with tooth 'n nail, an' I do it with scope 'n barrel. It's just somatics." He paused, seeming to contemplate the last word he'd said. Finding nothing worth correcting, he continued. "And… lookin' at you, I'm thinkin' our conversation is over…"

I glanced back up and saw him rising to his feet from the chair. "Are you heading out for the night?"

"Yeah," he said, leaning over to gather up what was left of my meal together with his plate of meat. "It's gettin' late. Gotta be out early again tomorrow mornin', so I'm 'unna get some sleep. Do I jus' drop this stuff off back down in the kitchen?"

"You could probably wash your dishes as well."

Ruger cracked a smile, pointed the plate at me, and said, "Don't push it Nak. I know where you live." With that, he took a few steps back and then turned toward the door. "Figure out that Gillian crap, will ya?" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Best of luck tomorrow," I called after him without actually meaning it.

"Yeah, you too," he returned, leaving me just as perplexed as ever, searching for hidden meaning behind his words. And then he was gone into the starlit night, leaving the door wide open behind him.


	10. Undertow - Memory by Candlelight

"…Did you know my grandfather?"

"Bugenhagen? No. He's one of the giants in the field of Planet Life studies, so I couldn't have lived here so long and not _heard_ of him, but I didn't know him personally."

"I see… Well before your time, I suppose… We were very close, my grandfather and I. Growing up, he was the only family I had, so I came to depend on him for guidance in nearly every aspect of my life. He is the reason I am who I am today." The Candle burned steadily before me, waiting patiently for me to continue. "One of the last things he said to me… before he died… He told me to travel the planet and learn from it. To gain my own understanding of life, what it is to be alive, what is it to be a part of something greater than myself. To observe and live within the flow of Planet Life. I've been travelling ever since then… I left my home behind and travelled the world, and I've seen so many things in my travels. Years and years worth of experiences…"

Elder Nadil waited for me to continue. After a moment, she asked, "And?"

"And… I wonder if I haven't made a mistake."

…..

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki searches for truth at the Cosmo Candle, and Elder Nadil puts life perspective. A pdf of the entire fourth section of the story, titled Undertow (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Undertow

* * *

Memory By Candlelight

I didn't sleep again that night. For several hours after Ruger left, I sat upstairs in the observatory at the foot of the bed that had swallowed me whole a few nights past. My mind had strayed from any sort of logical thought process, descending into the unfocused haze that usually portends sleep, but despite how long it had been since I had slept well, it did not come. There was still something on which my mind was at work, but I was unaware of what it was. I didn't feel troubled as I had earlier, so I was relatively sure Gilligan was not at work. It was some sort of synthesis of ideas, I felt, waiting to be put together; however, perhaps because of my fatigue, I was unable to gather all the parts in one place long enough to decipher them. No matter how I tried to hold on to them, they wrested themselves away and remained just far enough out of reach so that after a number of hours, I could no longer make them out against the backdrop of my subconscious. Just haze and noise.

At one point, from the edge of my perception, a sharp popping sound, barely audible, burst forth from somewhere outside, bringing me back to attention for a short moment. _Fireworks, maybe? Or did I imagine that too? _I waited for a few minutes, my head across my front legs and my ears perked, to see if any more fireworks were shot off or if I had, in fact, imagined it, and in the ensuing silence, an image of the Cosmo Candle developed in my head. I had no idea what time it was, but I suddenly felt like a trip to sit at the Candle's side would do me some good. After a while longer of listening to the silence, I rose to my feet, climbed the ladder down to the first floor of the observatory, and headed outside.

The rock under my feet was warm to the touch, emanating heat that warmed the air all around me. Nights in the canyon were generally cold – without the sun heating it, everything cooled off quickly after dark – but for a few months every year, the days were long enough that the heat absorbed during the day served to beat back the cold well into the night.

There was an utter lack of sound, I noticed, save for a light, warm breeze blowing in my ears. The wind carried on it a strong earthy scent that indicated to me that rain was near, but looking up, I could see no trace of it.

_Not a cloud sight. _The moon was just more than half full, probably the most unremarkable that it could have been, but the light it shed seemed to illuminate the canyon far beyond its expected capacity. My shadow, surrounded by a pale white light, followed me down the ladders and steps to the lowest level of the village and then shifted around behind me as I approached the Cosmo Candle. The word 'campfire' forced its way into my head, and reflexively, contemptuously, I glanced past the Candle at the makeshift camp of hunters. No one stirred. A few tents had been pitched, and a few bare sleeping bags had been laid out on the ground. All were occupied, the tents zipped shut and the sleeping bags heaving rhythmically up and down as their occupants rested. I sat down as I watched, and then a moment later, returned my gaze to the Candle.

The flames quietly danced about, full of energy as always, breathing

invisible, billowing waves of heat into my face every few seconds. The combination of undulating light and dark at the tip of the Candle was hypnotic and soothing, like a curiously silent battle, a skirmish between two bitter enemies fighting on a front that moved erratically so that neither side showed any clear advantage over the other. I wondered who might win, and what it might mean for the loser, and gradually I found my gaze drawn into the center of the flame, down toward its source. My mind wandered away from the battle and toward more esoteric matters.

_What will I do about Seto? Is there nothing I can do? _His appearance earlier had crushed me. Had it only been two years since last I had visited him? I couldn't remember now that I wanted to. _How could his condition have changed so drastically in such a short period of time? _I had no answer. I resolved after a few minutes of thought that I had somehow managed not to visit him the last time I had returned to the canyon. _Which would mean… How long? Ten years? Fifteen? Was it that long ago? How could I have been away for so long? The planet is vast, but not so vast that I should have forsaken my duty to the canyon for fifteen years._

Guilty, and somewhat determined to absolve myself, I thought back and tried to walk myself through all the years prior to my last visit and summarily found that I couldn't. There was some time spent in the Zolom Marshes one year, some time in the southern forests near New Mideel another year, but I found that I was not only unable to connect what islands of memory I had into a chronological line, but I also could not recall what I had done with myself while traversing those islands. What experiences had I had in the forests around New Mideel? Why had I gone to the Zolom Marshes? _Surely there was a reason, and it follows that I must have learned something from my time there._ What had I taken from those experiences?

I tried to picture myself in the marshes, up to my haunches in the water. Draped against the background of the Candle, everything in my mind was tinted various shades of orange and red, ochre and umber. I saw myself in the third person, as though I were watching someone else's recording of my travels. _But it's not fluid. They're just snapshots. _I was there, swimming through algae-coated water, frozen mid-stroke. I was there, investigating an exotic inflorescence low to the ground, my head craned down to the earth to gain a better vantage. I was there, looking nervously across the marsh toward a horizon filled with towering white clouds, in fear of what silhouettes I might see sliding through the murk toward me. And that was it. My memory consisted of swimming, algae, a flower, and clouds. That was it. _ What is there to take from that?_

Surely there was something more substantial that I had gleaned from my time around New Mideel. I saw upwellings of the Lifestream, after all. I observed the largest insects and perhaps the greatest diversity of plants I had ever seen. I remembered having difficulty navigating the forests at times because of how overgrown they were. I remembered a cliff hanging high above the water level along the coastline that was covered with trees out to its very edge. But again, it was all snapshots. What had I taken from the experience? The Lifestream promotes plant growth? The larger the insect the worse its attitude? Dense forest is difficult to traverse? There was nothing of even minor consequence.

…_Was there ever?_ I watched the fire and thought, and for a long while nothing came to me. _Nothing…_

My thought process descended into nonlinear chaos and remained there until a voice came from behind me, softly but with enough backing to startle me slightly. "Nanaki? Is something the matter?"

As the initial shock subsided, I glanced over my shoulder to see Elder Nadil standing behind me, hands behind her back, at the edge of the step leading up to the candle. I smiled faintly and said, "There is always something, it seems."

"I figured as much. You're not usually quite so nocturnal as you appear to be tonight. Would you like some company?"

"Sure," I responded, returning my gaze to the candle.

She took a few light steps forward and sat down next to me, just inside of arm's reach from me. "So then, why aren't you sound asleep in the research center?"

"I couldn't sleep tonight," I answered somewhat bluntly, quickly following up with, "And you? Shouldn't you be asleep somewhere too?"

"The years have yet to wear on me quite so heavily as they have the other elders, Nanaki. I will sleep when sleep beckons." Elder Nadil was the youngest of the village's elders – that is not to say she was young, exactly, but at less than half Elder Phoenix's age, she was spry by any comparison. "Now, what is on your mind?" she asked.

"It's hard to say… I find it difficult to put into words. It certainly has a commanding presence in my mind, but when I try to communicate it, my words fail me."

"Give it a try. I find that the Candle has a way of remedying these problems." She smiled sweetly at me and added, "And if you still have trouble, I'll bop you on the head a few times until I knock the right words loose."

"Well then, I had better get it right the first time, eh?" I glanced over at her with an amused smile and then returned to the flames. "…Did you know my grandfather?"

"Bugenhagen? No. He's one of the giants in the field of Planet Life studies, so I couldn't have lived here so long and not _heard_ of him, but I didn't know him personally."

"I see… Well before your time, I suppose… We were very close, my grandfather and I. Growing up, he was the only family I had, so I came to depend on him for guidance in nearly every aspect of my life. He is the reason I am who I am today." The Candle burned steadily before me, waiting patiently for me to continue. "One of the last things he said to me… before he died… He told me to travel the planet and learn from it. To gain my own understanding of life, what it is to be alive, what is it to be a part of something greater than myself. To observe and live within the flow of Planet Life. I've been travelling ever since then… I left my home behind and travelled the world, and I've seen so many things in my travels. Years and years worth of experiences…"

Elder Nadil waited for me to continue. After a moment, she asked, "And?"

"And… I wonder if I haven't made a mistake."

"Why, Nanaki? Why do you think that?"

Beyond the Candle, a hunter ambled through the dark, rifle in tow, toward a zipped tent. He glanced at me and seemed to stop just briefly before unzipping it and disappearing inside.

"I suppose it's something that's been on my mind for some time now, but my trip with Marcus out to the Ancient Forest yesterday…seeing how he worked, and how he collects his data, how he approaches the study of Planet Life… and seeing his… his enthusiasm and his thirst for knowledge… It crystallized the thought in my mind. And I tried to think back on the past hundred years of my life since I began my travels, and when I try to quantify them, to outline what I have learned in my time away, I find that I am unable. It is all trivialities – purely random events – that I remember, and they are so disconnected from each other… There has been no greater theme to my travels, and I have forgotten the majority of them already. How can I learn from something I don't remember?"

Elder Nadil was silent, perhaps thinking, putting an answer together in her head. When she spoke, there was a hint of humor in her voice. "So you wonder if it was worth it?"

"I guess."

"Nanaki, just because you can't remember something doesn't mean you haven't learned from it. I'm sure you don't remember learning to speak, but here we are having a conversation. Do you remember learning for the first time about spirit energy and the Lifestream?"

I shook my head. "No."

"And yet you now have a comprehensive knowledge of both."

"I think there is something wrong with my brain."

"Nanaki!" Nadil said, exasperated and laughing.

"I should be able to remember. There's no reason why I shouldn't. I've been across the world multiple times over. I've been travelling longer than most humans on the planet have been alive. I've done so much, and I feel that if it is important to me, I should remember it. And the fact that I don't… It means one of two things: either my travels have meant nothing, or there is something wrong with my brain. Maybe my mind is getting old before my body."

"Or perhaps you've just incorporated what you've learned so thoroughly into who you are that you don't recognize it as anything other than just… 'you.' It's just what makes Nanaki Nanaki." She poked my shoulder with her index finger each time she said my name for emphasis. "Is that possible?"

Begrudgingly, I admitted it was possible. "I just worry about what experiences I may forget. I'm nearly two hundred years old and I can't even remember fifteen years ago."

"Nanaki!" she responded in the same tone as before. "I can hardly remember what I did yesterday morning, let alone what I did on a given day fifteen years ago. You should know by now, memory just doesn't work like that. Our minds have only so much capacity. There are only so many connections that our brains can make. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just a limit of being human. Or… well, you know."

I smiled. "I do. I guess… I guess I just don't want to lose those memories though. I gave up my home here in the canyon a long time ago so that I could travel, and the memories are all I have now. They are a part of me, and when I forget them, it's like forgetting who I am… Where I came from. Does that make sense?"

"Marginally." Nadil brushed my shoulder lightly with the tips of her fingers. "It's hard to put myself in your shoes being that I haven't experienced everything you've experienced. Even harder given that you've still got so long to add to your pool of knowledge." She paused for a second. "Also, you don't wear shoes. But I understand. How are you on money right now? Elder Phoenix tells me you were raked over the coals by a cab driver on your way here."

"It was nothing major. Costa del Sol's just a lot farther than I remembered."

"Well if you have the money and you're seriously concerned, then you might think about buying a tape recorder to record your thoughts. They aren't that expensive these days."

The thought had never occurred to me. "That might be a good idea."

"I think so. In any case, I don't think your mind is going, Nanaki. If it was something like that, I'm sure you would feel it."

We sat in silence for some time and watched the Candle burn. Eventually my front legs grew weary, and I lay down. I still could not sleep, but my mind had slowed down at least. The flames and the Elder had seen to that.

"I'm not sure what you meant when you said you gave up your home, Nanaki," Nadil said after a while. "You don't view Cosmo Canyon as your home anymore?"

"…I'm not sure. I've been away far longer than I've been here, and… it's so different now from what it was."

"We've been welcoming, haven't we?"

"Yes, overwhelmingly so, but… that's not it. It would be foolish to think that life hasn't gone on here while I've been away. Coming back for a week every couple years doesn't mean anything, and it's been like that for so long… I just don't feel like there's a place here for me anymore. I appreciate how welcoming everyone has been, but I know I'm nothing more than a guest these days."

"You're determined to be unhappy, aren't you? Where is your home if not here in the canyon?"

"…I don't know that I have one. I don't know that I'm meant to. I mean, travelling as I do, as I have, I'm never in one place very long. I can't really get to know anyone, let alone assimilate into a community."

"Is that why you've been so distant?"

"Distant?"

"Elders Aren and Phoenix have noticed it too. When you returned home two years ago, and particularly during your stay this time. You've isolated yourself."

"That's not true… I've spoken with everyone in the canyon since I arrived, including the hunters. I spoke to the entire village at once right here the other night, and I was with Marcus the entire day yesterday."  
"And yet the only people you've really spoken to have been Marcus and the hunter, Onuris. And now myself as well. There's a difference between telling a story and conversing with someone, a difference between small talk and meaningful dialogue. You're smart enough to know that, and I'm surprised you think I can't tell the difference."

I dropped my head in silence.

"It's something you do to yourself, you know. Using your travels as an excuse to isolate yourself is…unfortunate. You are such an amiable soul… it seems a shame to wall yourself off as you do. There are a lot of people here who really want to know you better, but as long as you choose to distance yourself, that can't happen."

"Perhaps it's for the best then. Nothing ventured, nothing lost."

"You can't possibly mean that. If you're trying to be true to the promise you made to your grandfather, you can't possibly mean that. Is what you're doing really 'living within the flow of Planet Life?' Can you really develop an understanding of something you refuse to take part in?"

I knew the answer was 'no,' but for some reason I couldn't make myself say it.

Nadil watched for a moment, letting her words sink in. "Nanaki…" she continued. "There is more to life than collecting data in a notebook or seeing the four corners of the world, and there is more to home than spending an extended period of time in one place. And you can be sure, no matter how long you're away, that Cosmo Canyon will be waiting for you when you choose to return home. Okay?"

I nodded. "…I'm sorry," I half-whispered.

Nadil smiled, reaching her arm out and patting me on the back. "No worries. We all need a little guidance from time to time. And in any case, I didn't have to bop you on the head to get the right words out."

Nearly half an hour passed after that, the two of us sitting side by side, watching the Candle flicker in the night. I nearly fell asleep twice, both times having instead jerked back awake. It was mildly annoying, but still, given my difficulty sleeping over the last two or three days, it was a good sign.

The second time I failed to fall asleep, I heard a slight chuckle from Elder Nadil at my side. "Nodding off, are you Nanaki?"

I yawned and said back to her, "Perhaps in a bit."

Another few minutes passed and then she spoke again. "What is your opinion of Onuris?"

"Mm?" I had again drifted off a bit, missing the question in the process.

"Onuris. You're the only one he's really spoken to since he arrived. He seems very interested in you, so I wondered what you think of him."

"Oh…" I sat back up on my haunches and yawned again. "Honestly, I couldn't say. It's difficult to make heads or tails of him. He's been a hunter essentially since he was born, says he doesn't 'believe' in the flow of Planet Life. Can't remember my name to save his life. I don't know… He seems observant, at times rather surprisingly insightful, so I don't understand some of his idiosyncrasies. He's… different…" I thought for a moment, staring straight ahead sleepily. The air had finally started to cool in the village, but the waves of heat from the Candle kept any shivering I might have done at bay. "Perhaps if I showed him Grandfather's planetarium... Do you know why it isn't working?"

"I have no idea how that machine works. Didn't even know it was broken honestly. I think you're best served asking Elder Aren about it. He's been in charge of the research center in your absence, so if anyone knows, it will be him. But… So you're okay with Onuris?"

"We differ on some fundamental views about the nature and value of life, so I do have my reservations, I think, but beyond that I think he's just your average human. I guess you can take that as you will."

Elder Nadil knew my opinion of humanity was somewhat less than pristine, and while she wished that I would find a way to improve my opinion, she took my words on Ruger without so much as an argument. I saw shortly that her opinion of him was quite a bit lower than mine. "I see. Then you don't get the impression that there's something going on here that he hasn't mentioned yet?"

I was surprised. "You're the second person tonight to say something like that. Marcus was up to the observatory earlier expressing the same concerns."

"What did he say, exactly?"

I had to think about it before I could remember. "He said there are rumors that Ruger is here under false pretenses. Seems to think he's here after me, and the white hippogriff people think he's after is just a cover. Marcus says he's heard the other hunters talking when they think no one is listening, making…objectionable remarks about how I would look as a trophy."

"So he's heard them too… Oh, I hope he doesn't try to confront any of them over it. He's so bright, but he's so impulsive too… He could get himself into trouble."

"Wait, so you've heard the same things from the hunters?"

"Yes. They hardly even try to hide it. And when I look at that man, Onuris… I can see something in his eyes… Something he's withholding from us…"

I had taken Marcus's earlier comments with some modicum of skepticism, but the exact same sentiments now coming from an Elder too gave me true cause for concern. "Well I can assure you, it will take more than one bullet to do me in. And if anyone cares to test that out, famous hunter or otherwise, my claws will find them before they have a chance to react."

"Do not underestimate the power of these hunters' weapons, Nanaki. They have felled greater beasts than you with ease. You would be foolish to act recklessly when naught but a bullet stands between you and the end of your life."

"I've had a rifle or two pointed at me in my time, Elder. I know how to handle those situations."

The concern on Nadil's face matched closely what I had seen on Marcus's face earlier in the night. She didn't say a word to me. I had not satisfied her request.

"And of course I handle them with the utmost care so as not to end up shot."

She smiled in response and said, "Okay." Reaching forward, she placed her hands on either side of my head and turned it to face her. We looked each other in the eye for a moment, and I saw hints of tears in her eyes. "I don't know what I would do if I couldn't look forward to speaking with you again, Nanaki. So be careful. Please."

With that said, she leaned in and kissed the top of my head lightly. I could do nothing but look through her into the ground. The occasion suddenly felt so solemn that I was afraid to speak. In my ear the flame of the Candle crackled quietly, the only audible sound in the night. I was both happy and sad to hear Elder Nadil's concern for me, and as I sat there in her embrace, I realized I felt content for the first time since returning to the Canyon.

"Now then," she said, standing to her feet. "Sleep beckons. Will you be turning in soon as well?"

"I believe so. It's been a very long day."

"Sleep well then, Nanaki."

"I'm sure I will. You too."

Elder Nadil smiled again and left, returning to her hut for whatever was left of the night. I sat in my spot, thinking.

_Distant… Perhaps it's not so much that my travels have been wasted as it is that I've just missed the point. I wonder how to go about fixing it. How to stop being… distant. _The question mystified me – the longer I thought about it, the less sure I became of the answer. Still, I put my mind to the problem. Surely, there had to be something… I was lost in thought for quite some time before I gradually became aware of the sensation that I was being watched.

I looked around, but the village was completely still. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long, deep shadows across the canyon. My sight tracked over to the tent into which the hunter had disappeared earlier in the night. It was zipped tight. I scanned all of the huts perched on the face of the high rise. Nothing. Eventually, my sight came to rest on the entrance to the pub. It hung open, apparently having not been closed for the night since the inn was booked. Beyond the doorway there was nothing but blackness, but as I strained to see through it, I thought I could make out a humanoid figure inside, sitting at one of the tables.

A pang of shock and dread struck me as I saw it. The fur on the back of my neck stood up around my mane. _Is it here again? _I quickly stood up, my eye trained on the darkness in the doorway. I waited for a few seconds, expecting the figure inside to move or pursue me as it had down in the GI caves, but it was motionless. I took a few cautious steps back and then turned and loped up the steps and ladders to the observatory without looking back.


	11. Undertow - Splinters

It was Marin who had come knocking. When I opened the door, she seemed equal parts shocked and relieved. "Oh Nanaki, thank goodness you're okay." Her abrupt statement and apparent relief at my safety confused me even more.

"Why shouldn't I be okay?" I asked.

Marin looked nervously over her shoulder at the hatch closed over the ladder leading back down to the village.

"Would you like to come in and talk?" I asked in response.

"Oh, that would be much better."

I backed away from the door and stepped aside long enough for Marin to pass before closing and locking it behind her. "Now, what's the problem, Marin?"

"Oh Nanaki, I don't know… I think something bad happened last night."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was sleeping just as sound as could be when there was this commotion outside my hut. Two or three men shouting at each other. Couldn't make heads or tails of what they were arguing about since they were all going at once and not listening to a word anyone else said. But it kept going for a while, and it got worse and worse, and then there was a really loud *pop* and a flash of light outside the doorway." Marin acted out the sound with her hands as she said it. "And then it got really quiet. I thought I heard something heavy hit the ground, but I was afraid to move and look. There were sounds like something was being dragged around, and… Nanaki, I think someone was killed last night."

…..

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, the friction between the villagers and the hunters comes to a head, and as a grim crime is discovered, Nanaki takes on a guest at the observatory. A pdf of the entire fourth section of the story, titled Undertow (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Splinters

The figure was all but forgotten by the time I reached the observatory. As I passed the door to Grandfather's planetarium, I made a mental note to talk to Aren about repairs, and headed up the ladder to the second floor. By way of some careful positioning, I was able to climb onto the edge of the bed to lie down without sliding down into the pit in the center, and no sooner had my head hit the sheets than I was out cold.

And I slept well. Or deeply anyways. I had a host of strange dreams throughout the night, but I did not wake once until morning. One dream stood out from the rest, and is still etched in my mind to this day. There was a lake set in the middle of a huge, crater-shaped valley with high-rimmed walls all around in the distance. The sky was clear or perhaps hazy, and the water in the lake was a vivid shade of green. There was a small island in the middle of the lake, on which stood my father, alive and well. Steep hills rose up in the valley behind him, covered in an unusual shade of green that did not look quite like vegetation, though I couldn't say what else it might have been. He was stoic, but seemed as though he wanted to tell me something. However, he said nothing, standing motionless on the island, fur and mane blowing gently in an imperceptible wind.

And then gradually, starting at the ends of his legs and working upwards, his fur paled and stilled itself, and he began turning to stone. At the same time, tears ushered forth from his eyes, changing somehow as they fell so that when they hit the ground, they flowed into the lake like a moving stream. I remember feeling sadness as I watched these events occur, like I had somehow allowed it all to happen. Neither the progression of the stone up the sides of his body nor the flow of tears slowed, and soon the valley flooded. The water overtook him before the stone did, and he disappeared beneath the waves along with the island. In fact, by the time the curiously green water stopped rising, only the tips of a few distant hills remained visible above the waterline. The valley had filled nearly to its brim, and my father was gone.

From somewhere nearby a recurring, hollow clanking sound emerged from the silence, like metal being repeatedly thrown against wood. It was slow and deliberate at first, somewhat soft and unfocused, but as I looked around for the source of the sound, it gained some momentum and intensity. Finally looking down, I saw the bow of a boat below me, and running against the bow every few seconds was a long chain of wrought iron links that arced down into the green water below. _An anchor._ The rhythmic sway of the water rapped the chain solidly against the boat's hull, producing the sound I had been hearing. Back and forth it swung, caught in the push and pull of the waves, sounding against the bow of the boat, then retreating, and then returning a moment later, dragged forth by the water's crest. For a time this continued, the chain's undulations gaining only marginal speed, and then suddenly the chain was pulled tight. It continued on striking the side of the boat right in tempo, but it was apparent that it had snagged on something underwater.

The intensity of the strikes quickly ramped up, transforming over a matter of seconds from a dull thud into an earth-shattering slamming. It filled my ears entirely and dredged up a primal, panicked fear in me. It went on, unrelenting, pounding in my head so that I was afraid the boat would be reduced to splinters and I would be lost at sea. Deep down in the lake, where the green waters mixed with black, I saw something rising slowly from the depths: a black creature, amorphous but with a distinct, everchanging outline. It seemed to be climbing the chain, rising toward me on the surface. The panic blossomed in me as the chain slammed mercilessly away against the bow of the ship, pounding in my head, and as I saw the shapeless horror crack open two slitted, black eyes and peer at me from the deeps, I awoke with a start.

I was confused for a moment as to where I was. Somewhere below me, the rhythmic pounding sound continued, and for a split second I feared I hadn't been dreaming. Quickly though, my senses returned to me, and familiarity returned to my surroundings. My mind set to work on identifying the source of the sound coming from downstairs. At the same time, I noted both that I had fallen asleep with the lights on in the observatory and that I had successfully avoided falling into the bed while I slept. I gleaned some amusement from that success, gathered myself up and climbed down off the bed. Warm sunlight shone down on my back from the window set in the wall, giving me some idea how long I'd been asleep. It was maybe midmorning, noon at the latest.

"I slept well, indeed," I said to myself. Investigating the sound led me downstairs to the front door. _Another visitor._ _They come in droves._

It was Marin who had come knocking. When I opened the door, she seemed equal parts shocked and relieved. "Oh Nanaki, thank goodness you're okay." Her abrupt statement and apparent relief at my safety confused me even more.

"Why shouldn't I be okay?" I asked.

Marin looked nervously over her shoulder at the hatch closed over the ladder leading back down to the village.

"Would you like to come in and talk?" I asked in response.

"Oh, that would be much better."

I backed away from the door and stepped aside long enough for Marin to pass before closing and locking it behind her. "Now, what's the problem, Marin?"

"Oh Nanaki, I don't know… I think something bad happened last night."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was sleeping just as sound as could be when there was this commotion outside my hut. Two or three men shouting at each other. Couldn't make heads or tails of what they were arguing about since they were all going at once and not listening to a word anyone else said. But it kept going for a while, and it got worse and worse, and then there was a really loud *pop* and a flash of light outside the doorway." Marin acted out the sound with her hands as she said it. "And then it got really quiet. I thought I heard something heavy hit the ground, but I was afraid to move and look. There were sounds like something was being dragged around, and… Nanaki, I think someone was killed last night."

_Killed… _I couldn't recall there ever having been a murder in the canyon outside of wartime. This was not exactly what I wanted to wake up to. Still, if it was true, I needed to investigate. "Can you take me to your hut? Show me where the argument took place? Maybe we can get this figured out there."

"I don't really want to go back there right now, but… if you're coming with me, then I suppose it will be all right. Just…don't tell anyone along the way what we're doing, okay? Especially not those hunters."

I agreed and we left for Marin's hut. To get to it, we had to pass through the hunter camp down on the lowest level of the village. From the moment we arrived at the landing until the moment we ascended the ladder to Marin's hut, I felt eyes on me, watching every step I took with a strange, morbid interest. And for some reason it brought my dream from the night before back to my mind. Fortunately, Ruger had already embarked on his hunt for the day, so the number of hunters out and about in the village was minimal, and the more I looked, the more disinterested they actually seemed in us.

Even before we had quite arrived, I caught the scent of blood in the air. _Definitely human._ It appeared Marin couldn't smell it, but it was so thick in my nose that it was almost overpowering. Oddly, there were no other signs of struggle beyond the scent. I could find no stains, no bullet holes or casings, not so much as a snapped twig. But the scent… Blood had certainly been spilled.

"Did you recognize any of the voices you heard, Marin?"

"No… No, I didn't. They were all shouting over each other… I couldn't really make out much of anything. Why, did you find something?"

"I smell blood, but I don't see anything." I looked around for a moment more, making a second pass of the area for anything else I could find.

"I don't feel safe with them here, those hunters," Marin called after me as I searched. "Too many weapons. I haven't seen so many weapons in Cosmo Canyon in my entire life, and no sooner do they come than something like this happens. You get that many people with their guns together and it's only a matter of time... I just wish they would all leave…"

Finding nothing again, I turned back to Marin. "They'll be gone after Onuris gets his mark. Hopefully sooner rather than later." My mind lingered for a split second on the nature of Ruger's 'mark' and then moved on to the issue of Marin'ssafety. If this shooter became aware that Marin was witness to his murder, he might conceivably come back for her. _Best to get her out of harm's way._ "I will inform Elder Phoenix about this and see what he thinks should be done. In the meantime, would you like to stay with me in the observatory until this all gets sorted out? It might be better than staying here, at least while the hunters are still in the village."

Marin smiled an oddly sweet smile given the situation, and said, "Absolutely. That's so kind of you, Nanaki. I don't think I could make myself stay here tonight even if the hunters were gone altogether. I'm having enough trouble even standing here in broad daylight."

"Okay then. Let's grab some of your things while we're here, and we'll take them up to the observatory."

Marin didn't take much – just a pillow, a few changes of clothing, and a necklace she'd had for as long as I could remember. For the most part she just seemed eager to leave. Back in the observatory, I got her settled on the second floor, taking care to warn her about the bed. She took a seat on the edge of it and ran her hand across it slowly, bunching up the covers ever so slightly with her touch. The look in her eyes told me there was something she wanted to say.

"What is it, Marin? Is there something else?'

"Well I've been going back through it over and over again in my mind, the shooting. You asked me if I recognized any of the voices… And I didn't think so, but… the more I think about it, the more I certain I become. There were older men with deeper voices, and there was one person whose voice was a bit higher… I'm almost positive now that it was Marcus. I think Marcus was there. I don't know which end of the gunshot he was on, but I'm almost certain he was there."

"Marcus…" _Impulsive. _"Have you seen him at all today?"

"No. Should we go look for him?"

"Why don't you stay here for a bit, and I'll go look for him. See if I can't track down Elder Phoenix while I'm at it. Sound good?"

Marin agreed, visibly relieved, and I left to see what I could uncover. Predictably, I was unable to find Elder Phoenix or either of the other two elders, so I ended up asking anyone I could find about Marcus, be they village residents or hunters. Incredibly, no one had seen him since the previous day. The only people who gave me an answer other than "haven't seen him" were two or three hunters I ran across over about a thirty minute period. They each told me that Marcus had left early that morning in a huff, talking about going to study "some forest off to the east." Oddly, one hunter said he had left before dawn, while the others said after dawn. They were also split on whether he had taken anything with him, which, again, I thought was odd. Even the simple issue of how they'd discovered Marcus was going to the forest was a matter of some uncertainty. One had overheard Marcus saying it to an unnamed third party, while the others had only heard about it after the fact. Ultimately, I questioned how much faith I could put in the truth of their stories. Still… each hunter gave his story to me independently of the others, so… maybe discrepancies were to be expected.

After some time, I found myself in the pub with no one left to question. A group of hunters sat at a table getting drunk and making a mess, and the same bartender from a few nights before stood behind the counter, leaning forward with her head propped up in the palm of her hand. The look on her face was an intriguing mix of irritation and apathy – she watched the hunters closely, probably inwardly lamenting their general untidiness.

As I approached, she noticed me and lifted her head up, smiling faintly. "Any luck finding Marcus?" she asked.

"No… Can't seem to track him down."

"What did you need him for anyway?"

"Nothing important. Just need to ask him something. Meant to ask you before, you haven't seen any of the elders either, have you?"

"Not sure what Nadil and Aren are up to, but Elder Phoenix is in the storage room right now. He's been helping clean up from last night."

"Last night?"

"Oh, you didn't know? A couple of Onuris's floozies got into a fight last night. Broke a table and a few chairs, shattered a bunch of glass and bottles. We lost some of our alcohol stores and mixes too. Had to leave the door open overnight to let the place air out."

I took a quick survey of the pub, noticing for the first time that there were in fact a few of the tables missing, the floor bare in their place.

"Do you mind if I speak with him?" I asked turning my head back to the bartender.

"Sure, head on back. I'm not sure he's in a great mood though, so just be careful."

"Thanks," I said and headed through the wooden doorway to the right of the counter.

In the storage room, I found Elder Phoenix at work, sorting through a pile of broken wood and bagging pieces of broken glass. He saw me enter the room and welcomed me with a warm but decidedly forced smile.

"Ah, good afternoon Nanaki. How are you today? Have you come to help?"

"Well… Not exactly." Elder Phoenix's eyes sank a bit as I said it. I surveyed the debris strewn about the room. Chairs in tatters, tables cracked nearly in half, missing legs, more colors of broken glass than I could count. My mind drifted involuntarily away from the reason I'd come and toward the mess before me. "Is this all from last night?" I asked.

Elder Phoenix sighed, picking up a wooden plank cracked near its midpoint at a 45 degree angle. "Yes, yes it is. I've spent all day trying to sift through all this…wreckage… to see if there's anything salvageable. A marginally intact plank of wood may not be useful as a chair or a table anymore, but it can certainly be put to use elsewhere around the village."

"I see. Have you had any luck?"

"No, unfortunately. The individuals involved in the altercation last night saw to that." He tossed the broken plank onto a pile of similarly splintered wood at his side. "Do you know the worst thing? It's been something new every night since those hunters arrived. Leaving trash everywhere they go, using inappropriate language around the village, disrespecting our studies, and now fighting. I really think I'm on my last nerve with them. It may be my job to be diplomatic, but if these hunters don't start acting like civilized adults…" He leaned over and picked up a chair leg with a few planks hanging off the side of it. "I don't know…" he said, pointing and shaking the leg at me. "I think I may end up having to ask them all to leave the village. I haven't rescinded a single welcome to the village in all my years as elder, so if they make me break that streak, I'll be heartily disappointed."

"You may not like what I have to say then. …We think someone was killed last night, and that Marcus was involved somehow."

Elder Phoenix stopped what he was doing and looked at me in silence for a moment. "…Marcus?" he asked finally.

"Yes. Marin was witness to a shooting last night. She only heard voices and saw the flash of a gunshot, but she told me one of the voices she heard belonged to Marcus. I visited the site of the shooting, and I could smell blood. I don't know if Marcus shot someone or himself was shot, but I can't find him today to ask."

"…And the other voices she heard… Hunters?"

"They're the only ones in the village with weapons… And I'm sure that if any of them were villagers, Marin would have recognized their voices."

"And you can't find Marcus to verify any of this."

"No. Except for a few flimsy rumors that he left this morning for the Ancient Forest again, no one seems to know where he is."

The news seemed simultaneously to relieve and incense Elder Phoenix. On the one hand, the voices heard by Marin in the argument, unfamiliar as they were, meant that it was likely that none of the Cosmo Canyon residents had fired the weapon, with possible exception of Marcus. But on the other hand, that meant that either Marcus or one of the hunters staying in the canyon had pulled the trigger. And that meant either that Marcus had killed someone and fled or that…

Thinking back through Marin's account of the events, it was easy to piece together what had happened. There were three people and one shot. There was no yelling afterwards. There was no struggle. Just one shot.

"I suspect that Marcus is not in the ancient forest," Elder Phoenix said flatly after a moment of contemplation. "Which means that he has likely been killed." The word 'killed' struck me with an almost tangible impact. "I will send a search party out to the forest on the off chance that he is there, and in the meantime… When Onuris returns tonight, I will inform him that he and his followers are no longer welcome in Cosmo Canyon."

"Is there nothing else we can do?"

"Eh? You would have us continue to harbor a murderer in the canyon, Nanaki?"

"No, no," I said in quick, shocked response. "What I mean is, isn't there any sort of…investigation we could do or… some way to detain the culprit? To see that justice is done?"

"Nanaki, you know we don't have the means to detain anyone here, and the only real sources of law enforcement that could do so these days are in Midgar and Wutai, on entirely different continents. There's a small force in Costa del Sol, but my experience with them has given me full confidence in their incompetence. Cosmo Canyon has gotten by for the past fifty years by not making enemies, so the best we can do is ask these hunters to leave and handle Marcus's affairs among ourselves."

"And if they don't leave?"

"They will. Their leader has enough of a public image to maintain that he wouldn't want to risk the bad publicity. Forcefully occupying a village against the residents' will tends to reflect poorly. And when he leaves, the others will follow."

_That's not enough. That's not enough. What good are man's laws if they can just be brushed aside with no consequences? _I was silent, but anger had begun to shore up in me.

Sensing this, Elder Phoenix put down the chair leg he had been holding onto and made his way through the rubble to me. Patting my back, he tried to commiserate with me, perhaps trying to allay my anger. "It's not fair, I know. It isn't a good end to this business, not for any of the parties involved. But it is the best we can hope for. They will leave, and we will find Marcus, and when we do, we will take care of him."

_…Not enough…_

I couldn't understand how he could so plainly allow a person to kill one of the residents of his village. One of his own. How he could stand by and do nothing about it. I had come to him with this news because he held authority, but I had fully expected him to take action, not to sit back and… just let them get away with it.

"Marin is staying with me in the observatory until the hunters leave. It will be safe there." The words left my mouth angrier than I intended them to be, but perhaps I was angrier than I thought I was.

"That is probably for the best. How is she faring?"

"She's fine."

"…Hmm… I see. Well, I need to get back to work here. I've got a lot more wood and glass to sift through. If you get bored this afternoon, you know where I am." Elder Phoenix climbed back into the midst of the pub's wreckage and began searching again for anything salvageable he could find.

I left him to his work with no intent to come back.


	12. Undertow - Eye for an Eye

_So damn arrogant. You're nothing without your gun. You would think twice if you didn't have it. If you fought someone who could defend himself and you had nothing but your fists._

My thoughts on punishment returned again and again to the 'eye for an eye' concept, and though I rebuffed the notion, each time it returned it gained a slightly greater foothold in my mind than before. I did not notice it, but as time passed, my surroundings developed a distinct red tint, faint at first but increasingly intense until, to my eye, the world appeared to have been cast in a bold, crimson dye. It was fueled by my rage, yet it seemed in turn to feed it, provoking terrible thoughts in my mind that would have shocked me under any other circumstance.

_You have no respect for life. No respect for anything beyond the reach of your own arms. …You don't deserve what you have. You don't deserve your life._ …_An eye for an eye_…

The longer I thought, the more permanently the red dye stained the world, and as my rage surged within me, it became clear that the only thing that these hunters would respect, the only weapon that would command their attention, was death. They would not leave of their own accord. They would not honor words from any human who was not of their own number. They would laugh, and they would disrespect our village, its people… its purpose… its heritage…

_You won't. I will find out who you are, and when I do… An eye for an eye._

_….._

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, the world runs red, and Nanaki plans his counterattack. A pdf of the entire fourth section of the story, titled Undertow (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Undertow

Marin was asleep when I returned to the observatory. A nap, I supposed, to compensate for the sleep she had missed the night before. Rather than risking waking her, I headed back outside and laid down at the edge of the butte overlooking the village. It had not warmed up much since I'd awoken. Looking up, I saw that the sun, partly hidden by an encroaching sheet of clouds, had already begun its descent for the day. We were in for a rather cold night. Down below to my left, the village's windmills turned in a steady, cool breeze blowing out toward the ocean. The sound of the mills turning was faint but incessant, and given my frame of mind, it got under my skin quickly.

I laid my head across my front legs and quietly watched the village below, but in spite of my outward appearance, I was boiling under the surface. There was no way for me to justify Elder Phoenix's response to the shooting. No matter how I looked at it or what logic I used, letting the hunter that was responsible for the apparent murder just leave without taking any action against him was a move of… For some time I remained stuck at that word, perched on the very edge of accusing my village's head elder of cowardice, unable to make myself think it. But as minute after minute wasted away and the sun drooped ever lower in the sky, the word continued to tear away at my heart, and ultimately, the sentence completed itself.

…_Cowardice…_

I didn't want an eye for an eye – I told myself it would solve nothing – but I knew in my heart that some action was required, that some form of culpability needed to be established. However, I was not exactly sure what action should be taken, or how punishment in the absence of a policing force should be handled. Resentment grew in me as the minutes passed, directed both at my uncertainty toward the situation and toward the hunter responsible for it. In time it became clear to me that this hunter, whoever he was, had done what he did because he thought he could get away with it. He didn't think some country village like ours could do anything about it, so he did what he wanted. He was mocking us. And as I focused on that fact, the boiling anger in me gradually escalated to a burning rage.

_So damn arrogant. You're nothing without your gun. You would think twice if you didn't have it. If you fought someone who could defend himself and you had nothing but your fists._

My thoughts on punishment returned again and again to the 'eye for an eye' concept, and though I rebuffed the notion, each time it returned it gained a slightly greater foothold in my mind than before. I did not notice it, but as time passed, my surroundings developed a distinct red tint, faint at first but increasingly intense until, to my eye, the world appeared to have been cast in a bold, crimson dye. It was fueled by my rage, yet it seemed in turn to feed it, provoking terrible thoughts in my mind that would have shocked me under any other circumstance.

_You have no respect for life. No respect for anything beyond the reach of your own arms. …You don't deserve what you have. You don't deserve your life._ …_An eye for an eye_…

The longer I thought, the more permanently the red dye stained the world, and as my rage surged within me, it became clear that the only thing that these hunters would respect, the only weapon that would command their attention, was death. They would not leave of their own accord. They would not honor words from any human who was not of their own number. They would laugh, and they would disrespect our village, its people… its purpose… its heritage…

_ You won't. I will find out who you are, and when I do… An eye for an eye._

I would stifle the murderer's laughs, and I would bring them all to respect. No one else in the village would take any action – Elder Phoenix would make sure of that – and so it would have to be me.

Down below, drenched in the crimson red hue, the village was quiet, almost as though it were waiting for my thoughts to reach a point of resolution. I watched silently as two hunters emerged from the pub and headed back to the crowd of tents set up at the edge of the landing, along the way breaking up the silence – the monotonous ratcheting of the windmills and the droning whisper of the wind – with their own cantankerous, obviously drunken yells. They seemed to be yelling neither at each other nor at anyone in particular, but were perhaps only yelling to make as much noise as possible on their way back to their camp. I watched silently, and I glared.

_You're down there somewhere. I know you are. And when I find you, I'll see that you regret riding in here on Ruger's heels. _

And I knew there were none of them who were completely innocent. There may only have been one hunter who pulled the trigger, but they all shared the blame. They all shared the same philosophy, the same view of our canyon and our studies. I began to think that making an example of just the one hunter would not be enough. If they all shared the blame, then they all would have to share the consequences, and if the punishment didn't affect them, they would ignore it. But how? I couldn't kill them all. Not without myself ending up riddled with holes by the end of it. So what would I do? How could I hit them all in one fell swoop? I was stumped for quite some time, and it only seemed to exacerbate the rage. It felt as though there were a whirlwind running all through me, kicking up emotions and ideas that I couldn't get a firm grasp on. I could only see them for a moment before they disappeared into the swirling haze. The only constant, ubiquitous throughout, was anger. They had stolen the life of one of our own. They had come to our village, taken advantage of our hospitality, and killed one of our students behind our back. They had to answer for it. And then the solution hit me, blunt as a hammer, and all the pieces fell into place.

_Onuris._

It was he who had brought all the hunters to the village. It was he who they all looked upon with such adoring eyes. They drew on his attitude toward the study of Planet Life when expressing their own disregard for it. His arrogance empowered them. Without it… That would be perfect. If the rumors that he was out to add me to his trophy list had any merit to them, then it would have a kind of poetry to it if I were to turn the tables and end him first. But the problem remained. If I took any action in the village, there would certainly be retaliation from the bystanders.

Sometime later, Ruger returned to the village, and along with the usual cadre of hunters greeting him, Elder Phoenix was there waiting. When the hunters dispersed, he approached Ruger and spoke, I assumed telling him that he and his followers were no longer welcome. Ruger had no reaction to whatever he heard, indicating both acceptance of Elder Phoenix's terms and lack of remorse for the murder. As I watched his nonreaction unfold, I grew more and more resolute and sure of what I had to do. Ruger's words from the night before when describing his hunt came back to me, and despite the fact that they likely were referencing me in the first place, they seemed quite apt now.

_I kinda knew the second I left the village today I wasn't gonna see 'im, but hey, that's part of the game. Just have to wait for the right chance to get 'im. _

And so I remained in my spot outside the observatory, overlooking the red-stained village, waiting.

…..

"That old geezer did what?"

I heard the voice before I'd even entered the pub. As I crossed the threshold, I saw Ruger sitting at a table, a drink in his hand, steel rifle at his side, and three of his lackeys set out around him. It had been some time since he had returned to the canyon for the night, and the red dye had mostly faded from my vision. Still, I held fast to the decisions I had made earlier, and despite the fact I'd come to the pub specifically looking for Ruger, my mood darkened upon seeing him.

"We're out," Ruger responded to one of the two hunters sitting across from him. "He's kicked us all out. Says one of his villagers went and disappeared, and it's on account 'a one of the guys stayin' in the camp with y'all."

"He can't jus' kick us all out 'cause of what one guy did though," the first hunter returned.

"Yeah, I'll bet he dudn' even have any evidence," retorted another. "Jus' lookin' fer someone ta blame."

"You aren't just gonna let 'em do this, right Onuris? What about your hunt?"

"Oh, I think I got all that sorted out. In any case, it's probably best 'at we don't cause any more trouble fer these folks here. Who knows what th—" Ruger glanced up at me in the doorway, cutting himself off midsentence, and as he saw me his eyes lit up like a light switch had flipped on inside his head. " 'Ey, Nak! What're you doin' down here?" He added something to his colleagues under his breath that resulted in them glancing over at me with what I took to be covetous eyes. Their look lasted only a split second, after which they promptly vacated their seats.

"Well I'm gonna make sure everyone hears about this," the first hunter grumbled as he left.

I stood my ground in the doorway as they passed and didn't answer Ruger's question.

"Come on over here, Nak. I got some stuff I wanna talk to you about."

After a deliberative moment, I stepped forward and took a seat across from him. _Best to play it straight for now, like nothing's happened._

"One sec, lemme get us some drinks. I'll uh… I'll take it easy on ya this time, eh?" He smiled mockingly as he rose to his feet and headed over to the bar.

I sat quietly and watched as he placed his order at the bar and then a minute or so later was handed two glass mugs, one filled with some sort of semi-translucent light brown liquid, beer most likely, and the other filled with an opaque, cloudy green liquid. I could guess which drink was mine.

Ruger set the drinks down on the table when he returned and slid the green drink across to me, saying, "There ya go. Called a Green Forest. Had the lady behind the bar up there tell me what all's in it – isn't nearly as bad as the Morning Star. Kinda on the fruity side if ya ask me, but you might like it. Won't really taste like alcohol." He sat down, and I glanced at the drink dispassionately and then back at him. "Oh, and here." He tossed something over to me, and as it came to rest on the table, I recognized it as a straw. "I saw you weren't havin' much luck holdin' your drink the other night, so I thought this might work better for ya."

"…I'm not thirsty right now."

"Ah come on Nak. Jus' try it. I think you'll like it." Ruger reached over and dunked the straw in my drink for me.

I watched silently and made no moves.

After a moment, Ruger took the hint, saying, "Ok then… It'll be there if you change yer mind. Jus' so you know though, these drinks always taste better when they're cold." With that said, he leaned back and took a long swig from his mug. Immediately upon finishing, he continued on with his conversation. "And anyways, today might be the last day we have to talk since we all been kicked outta the village, so ya might humor me."

After another moment of deliberation, I did humor him, placing the tip of the straw in my mouth and taking a sip from it. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad, although I didn't admit it to him and was hard-pressed to admit it to myself. He wasn't lying about how fruity it was.

Ruger watched, waiting to see if I was going to make a scene as I had the last time, and after a few seconds, possibly disappointed, he asked, "Not bad, eh?"

"As far as alcohol goes."

He laughed lightly and said, "Don't understand how you lived all your life with humans, getting' raised by 'em 'n taught by 'em and everythin', and you didn't get the taste for alcohol. One 'a life's great pleasures." He took another drink from his mug.

"My grandfather didn't care for it either, said it dulls sharp minds and blunts dull ones. Given that I lived with him for the first 50 years of my life, I never developed the taste."

"Fifty years, huh? …Yeah, I remember you mentionin' the other night about how you been travellin' since before I was born… Just how old are you anyways?"

"Old enough."

Ruger laughed at my remark, but I couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or cynicism. "Old enough… Oh, old enough – who isn't old enough?" Another sip. "So after your grandfather… uh… went back to the planet er whatever, you were the last one 'a your kind left, yeah? 'N that's when you started travellin'?"

_Just a regular conversation… Ok, let's see if it works. _"My grandfather was human. But yes, it was shortly after that I began my travels in earnest. I've been on my own since then."

"Hm. Well, you seem ta handle yourself pretty well, all things considered." Another pause. "Guess I'll stop beatin' around the bush. I wanna know somethin' from you. Somethin' I been wonderin' ever since I first saw you. You're in a real unique kinda situation, bein' who you are and all. A talkin' animal. A beast with a human's brain, however old you are. What's that like, livin' in a world of humans like you do?"

I took a moment to think about it, but as I already knew my answer, my mind revolved around my resentment of the phrase 'human's brain' until I spoke.

"I suppose the short answer is that I don't much care for two-legged things." Ruger got a good laugh out of that too. "Would you like the long answer too?"

"Yeah, lemme hear it."

I took a deep breath and spoke. "I've already told you humans gave me the scar over my eye. They gave me the cuts you see in my skin, the brand you see on my shoulders. They wiped out my species. They experimented on me for their own twisted purposes. They're the source of all wars. They kill for fun." I put a bit of emphasis on the word 'kill.' "They disrespect each other and their surroundings, and more than once, they've brought the planet to the brink of destruction."

Ruger's eyes widened noticeably as I spoke, but oddly, a small smile remained on his face. "That it?" he asked rhetorically.

"I've seen it all in my time. All of it. It's one of the problems with living as long as I have."

"So then why live with humans?"

The question had an odd effect on me. I knew what I wanted to say, but my state of mind dictated that I skew the truth. And as much as I wanted to drag Ruger through the mud of humanity, after a pause for thought, I found that I couldn't. Whether the question had been asked with the intention of changing my frame of mind or not, I found my thoughts shifting toward something decidedly less… spiteful.

"Part of the reason I guess is that it's hard not to. There isn't a corner of this planet that humans haven't laid their hands on in this day and age. And I guess it's also partly because all of those flaws, as terrible as they might be… They're only one side of humanity. There's a whole separate side to you humans. That's one of the things I set out to find during my travels. They have an incredible thirst for knowledge and understanding. They have the gifts of reason and compassion and choice, regardless of if they use them. And while they can fall victim to emotion, they are also capable of overcoming it. That's the beauty of humanity. The duality of it. The good and the bad. For every bad thing I've seen, there has been something equally good, some display of reason or integrity under duress that offsets the bad."

"Quite a peptalk. You're makin' me proud." He patted his chest as he spoke. "So you spent a lot of your travellin' time visitin' with humans. Givin' 'em names and cataloguin' them away in your head, right? Isn' that what you said the other night?"

I nodded, my foul mood having almost entirely dissipated. It was surprising just how disarming he was.

"You think it's better living with humans? Or are you more at home out there in the wild? Or whatever wild this world of ours has left."

"Easier asked than answered. The natural world is harsh and unforgiving, but at the same time it has a kind of beauty that you can't find within the confines of a big city or even a small village. There's a natural order that you don't really see until you've lived in the wild for some time. I used to resent humans for their lack of insight into that order, but…But there's something to be said for civilization too. Safety, camaraderie, community. You don't get that in the wild. A community of like-minded people all working together toward a common goal – like the study of Planet Life here in the canyon – is hard to replicate, so there is certainly some intrinsic value to civilization."

Ruger's eyes had noticeably glazed over. "I don' know how you said so many words without answerin' my question. If you had ta choose, where would you be? Out there livin' like a beast, or in here, livin' like a human? You obviously got both in you, so I wanna know where you think you belong."

I thought about the conversation I'd had with Elder Nadil the night before. _No matter how long you're away… Cosmo Canyon will be waiting for you when you choose to return home. Okay?_ And as I did, the same doubts began to resurface. "…I wish I knew. I've always said I am who I am, but… I've tried really hard to integrate myself into human society over the years. I've lived in every major city in the world at one time or another. I've tried to conduct conversations with countless humans, tried to make friends, but the majority of them can't even get past the fact that I can speak."

"Gotta admit, I was in shock there for a few minutes too."

"Yeah, well… it's a bit disheartening. When you look like a beast, people expect you to be one. It makes it difficult to feel like anything else sometimes. I mean… I certainly have animal instincts in me, but I've tried… I've tried to integrate. I read, I write, albeit with some difficulty - I even had a cell phone once too, back when I had a few people I could call."

The look in Ruger's eyes made obvious he was trying to picture me in his mind doing any of the things I'd just said. He was amused.

Part of me wanted to stop talking. I didn't want to be the source of his amusement. A fire sparked inside me, and almost in reaction to it, the question from the previous night – _How to stop being distant? – _arose in my mind. And in the face of the rekindled anger, I determined I would continue on."I was clumsy with the keys though. Paws and claws – could never seem to hit just one key at a time. And when I held it to my ear, the receiver didn't reach to my mouth, so I had to move it back and forth constantly whenever I used it. Pretty obvious it wasn't made with someone like me in mind. These days, it's gotten difficult to find the right kind of batteries, and since I don't really have anyone to call anymore... I left it upstairs several years back. I'm not even sure if it's still there now."

The smile had spread across Ruger's face. "So then based on all that effort, you'd say you belong here. Living like a human." Despite the smile, he sounded oddly disappointed. Why should that disappoint him?

I thought for a moment and then spoke. "No. Not exactly, anyway. When push comes to shove, the fact is I'm not a human, and I'm quite happy with that. Proud, even. I try to fit in the best I can, but… Like I said before, I don't much care for two-legged things."

"So it's like a beast then."

"Well… No."

"Aaaand yer goin' in circles."

"Thus the problem. I've been trying to figure out where that circle ends for years. There is so much to see and learn and explore out there, I feel a kind of obligation not to confine myself to civilization, but at the same time, I feel like I need to have a home to come back to. Thinking of Cosmo Canyon while I'm abroad fills me with happiness and energy because I know that I'll return some day soon. But once I return, I am always sad not to be travelling."

"Yeah?"

"It has gotten worse the past two or three times I've come back to the canyon. It's something that has preyed on my mind like a ravenous beast and cost me sleep and general well-being. I spoke with Elder Nadil about it last night, but… I don't know where exactly I belong, and it's possible I never will. Cosmo Canyon may be my home, but I'm not sure that I am meant to live here. And I may travel across the wilds of the world, but I'm not sure that they are where I am meant to be either."

Ruger sighed. "Nak, Nak, Nak… You're not makin' this easy on me."

_What does that mean?_ "It's no easier on me."

He laughed brusquely. "Well I got nothin' to say to ya there except that that's life." He stopped, staring past me at the floor. "Ya know, I actually do got somethin' to say there. Ya see, I never really thought about it before now, but things must be really differ'nt fer you, living fer so much longer'n us humans. Iss a totally differ'nt perspective, I imagine. You go out there an' you learn about the world 'n name it 'n classify it 'n make it make sense ta you. Fer us, a name is a name. We name and we go. Doesn' matter if it makes any sense 'r even means anything – we don' last long enough for it ta matter. But you… Time is differ'nt for you. You're here at least twice as long as any've us. An' I see how you are, puttin' meanin' inta everything you see, waitin' fer somethin' ta go wrong. So maybe tha's the problem. You go ta all the trouble 'n spend so much time namin' stuff 'n makin' yer mighty catalog of the world, and all the time you're doin' it, its changin' on ya. You think you got it all figured out 'n when you turn around, suddenly ya don't recognize what ya see. And then you go all mental with that Gillian nonsense.

"Here's what I think, Nak. It's fine ta name things 'n put them in all yer lil' classification schemes 'r whatever, but ya gotta recognize that it idn' a static thing. The world don' stop just cause ya gave it a name. Maybe for us humans it does, but tha's just cause we're outta here before it really has a chance to flip us the bird 'n keep goin' on its way. Tha's what's happenin' ta you, Nak. The world is flippin' you the bird over 'n over again, and you're jus' sittin' there tryin' to figure out what kinda bird it is. Get me?"

I had understood the first part of what he had said, but the last part had me thoroughly confused. There was a strange air of hypocrisy in it all, but at the same time…

Ruger sighed and continued. "What I'm sayin', Nanaki, is yer not a human, so where's the sense in tryin' ta be one? Maybe the reason yer Gillian went away when you started travellin' wasn't that you learned about the world. Maybe it was jus' that you were bein' you. You weren't fiddlin' around with a cell phone 'r spillin' drinks all over the floor 'r obligatin' yerself to have forced conversations with some hick hunter in a pub. You were jus' bein' you. So maybe you should try leavin' it ta us short-lived humans to make our short-lived names fer everything and you go out there somewhere an' just… be. Ya think?"

"I…" _Just… be…_

"Either that, or I could just put ya out of yer misery right here, right now," Ruger said in a disturbingly serious tone. I glanced up at him and saw he had a hand by his side, patting his metal rifle as though he were offering a way out. It would probably have made him happy – it may even have been his plan – but I declined.

"No…no…" I said, and had to think for a moment. The conversation had gotten off the track I wanted. _This wasn't supposed to be about me. _I debated whether or not it was worth telling him what I had already decided about Gilligan so long ago, and ultimately elected to throw caution to the wind. Maybe speaking about it now would get the conversation going back the right way again. _Have to fix this…_"I've put a lot of thought into Gilligan over the years, and one of the conclusions I've drawn is that it is the manifestation of my fear of loss. …There was a lot of death in my life in the years surrounding Gilligan's first emergence, and I think Gilligan was the result of my inability to cope with it."

"Oh yeah?"

"It was around the time the ramifications of outliving everyone I knew first began to sink in… I mean, I always knew I would, but… Hundreds of years without the people who were closest to my heart… It was all I could think about for years, and Gilligan was born from it."

"So it's like I said. Even with all that namin' and classifyin' 'a things you said you do while you travel, slappin' a name on Gillian didn' make it any better."

"…No, not directly. I think it kept it at bay for a long time, but… When you're constantly on the road, out in the wild on your own… You have a lot of time to think. I would think about all the people I loved and had befriended, and I would think about what it would be like to see them grow old and die, what living without them would be like, and …It's hard to describe… It was like knowing something terrible is going to happen in the future but being unable to do anything about it. A horrible, frightful feeling. However unfortunate it may be though, we are all a part of the flow of spirit energy, and death is an inevitable part of life. It took me a long time to make peace with that fact."

"Yeah, that's somethin' I'm learnin' about you Nak. You really spend a lotta time worryin' about stuff. Take every chance you can to get depressed or mad. You think it's possible you might just be really neuronic?"

I misheard him at first and then had to take a moment to figure out what he had actually meant. "I'm sure that's at least partly it. But you don't live for as long as I have without getting a little neurotic about things."

"Well… All right then, let's go with it. You aren't buyin' what I said about jus' bein' you. You say Gilligan's your 'fear of loss' or death or whatever. So why's it back now if you claim to have made some sorta peace with that 'death is a part of life' stuff?"

"I don't know… I am at a loss."

"Well what have you been thinkin' about since you got back 'n Gillian's been actin' up? Think we pretty well established it ain't all rainbows 'n sunshine inside that head a yours. What's botherin' you?"

_You. But… _"I feel like… like… Well, its something else I talked with Elder Nadil about last night. I guess it's not so much the problem anymore as it is how to go about fixing it. I feel like there's a rift between who I am and who I would like to be. And I know it's there, but I don't know what to do about it. The elder said I've been distant since I returned, and I want to fix that, but… Things have changed so much around here that I don't know where or even how to begin."

"So ever'thing you knew went 'n changed while you were gone, and now you're sad. That about it? Sounds familiar for some reason, doesn' it?" He paused for a moment to give me a chance to connect the dots. "…I'll tell you what, it sounds to me like you're jus' lonely. Maybe your fear of loss is actually a fear of bein' abandoned. It's a big, wide, indifferent world out there and you're just afraid a bein' alone in it."

"Maybe." I wasn't sure anymore what I had wanted to gain from this conversation. It seemed as though Ruger had arrived at the same conclusion about me that Elder Nadil had the night before. More the 'why' and the 'what' than 'how to fix it,' but regardless… I wanted to change the subject.

"I mean, think about it. People go 'n die on ya, you get all shaky. You come back here after a few years and feel all… alienized in your hometown, you get all shaky. And above all, you even gave your shakes a name. You personified your mental problem so that you would have someone else to think about. That's 'Gillian,' Nak. Am I right?"

I glanced up at Ruger, looking him directly in the eyes, and in an instant was looking straight through him at the back wall. I didn't want to admit it, but he was right, and the reasoning he had given was so astute it had rendered me speechless.

"That's pretty messed up, Nak. Loneliness is a tough pill ta swallow, but it's a part of growin' up. You gotta rely on yourself eventually, 'n if you're gonna live with people, you gotta make your own connections with 'em. Otherwise you get cut off. People keep movin' on their way and you're left isolated in your own lonely little corner of the world. 'N then you get on to feelin' worse 'n worse until you get the shakes and start namin' your feelings. You know what I'm sayin'?" He stopped for a moment as though he expected an answer. "Ya get weird," he said rather pointedly in response to my silence. "Don't get weird, Nak."

_When did he get so philosophical?_ I wondered. Or maybe it wasn't philosophical. In any case, what he said made sense to me. _Abandoned…_

"Best thing you can do is jus' ta go 'n talk to people. People like to talk. Good lord do people like to talk. And if they ask you questions, gotta tell them the truth. Bear your heart a little bit and they'll do the same. You know? Don't be distant."

I couldn't understand how this self-proclaimed 'hick hunter' who had only known me for a few days could so easily see this when I, who had been around myself for my entire life, could not. I began for a moment to reevaluate my conclusions on Ruger, and almost on cue, he spoke.

"So Nak, I got a question for ya. Me and a few of the other guys were wonderin'… You ever hear how dogs and cats and things can only see in black and white? Is it like that with you too?"

The question hit me out of the blue, rather bluntly, as though I'd suddenly been smacked across the muzzle with a wet fish. _Not as philosophical._

"I mean, you're like a big cat thing, right? Or like a dog thing, 'r a cat-dog thing, 'r somethin'?"

"Yes, I can see in color. Faintly. My night vision is much better than yours but not as good as…a cat's, and my color vision isn't as good as yours but better than a cat's."

Ruger laughed briefly at a joke I hadn't realized I'd told. "That makes sense somehow. Even your vision's somewhere between man 'n beast. Par for the course."

"I suppose."

"An' I guess you got a good sense 'a smell too, yeah?"

"I suppose."

"Hm." The wheels were clearly turning in Ruger's head – there was an underlying question he was trying to ask. After a moment of staring blankly at the table in between us, he spoke again. "Well listen. Since I'm not gonna be here anymore after tonight, 'n who knows when we'll cross paths again in the future, I figure I needa go ahead 'n ask ya: you at all interested in comin' out with me on the hunt tomorrow? I got just about all the information I need to wrap this thing up, so if I get you out there with me, I should be able to take care of it in no time flat. Maybe put those animal instincts of yours to the test."

His request caught me off guard, striking a chord in the pit of my stomach as I heard it. I took the feeling at first to be dread, a kind of nervous apprehension that this may be Ruger's final attempt at bagging me as a trophy, but after a second it occurred to me that this may be just the opportunity I had been waiting for as well. Out of the village, away from prying eyes… No witnesses. This was what I wanted. This was what I had been after all along. "Would there be anyone else with you tomorrow aside from myself?"

"Nah, I've always made it a point to hunt alone. With a lot of these animals I'm after, they're real shy 'n secretive. Seems ta come with the territory, them bein' as rare as they are. Havin' more than just me on their tail tends ta raise suspicions and generally kill any chance I have for success."

_Just the two of us. Perfect. Don't be too eager though, or he'll know something is up. _"Then don't you think I'll just end up scaring your animal away if I come with you?"

"Nah, I figure if anyone can handle it, it's you. Prolly built for sneakin' around quieter than anyone else who's ever been out with me." He paused and then continued on, saying, "And I know you're all anti-huntin' or whatever, but I figure that given all the talkin' we been doin' the past couple a days, maybe you'll make an exception this once. What do ya think?"

"I suppose. What time will you be leaving?"

"Early as possible, I think. Gonna be a long day either way. Meet down by the front steps around dawn, okay?

"Sure."

"Okay, le's drink to it. One last day." He held his mug up in the air between the two of us, obviously beckoning me to tap my glass against it. I made no moves at first, but upon seeing that his hand was not going anywhere before it got what it wanted, I balanced on my haunches, cupped my glass with both front paws, Green Forest and all, and held it up to him as a strange kind of offering. He clinked the rim of his mug against my glass and then downed the remainder of his drink.

I took a few sips from the now-warm Green Forest and thought quietly. The taste was noticeably more bitter on my tongue than it had been when it was colder.

"An' hey. I'm sorry it's all gone down like this, ya know?"

I broke my head away from the straw in my glass, unintentionally smacking my tongue off the roof of my mouth, and said, "Either way, it was bound to happen eventually. I wouldn't worry about it."

He nodded and smiled an oddly knowing smile that made me wonder at first if he somehow already knew my plan for the next day. Perhaps he had seen through the oddness of my last statement and knew my intentions. Or perhaps he had adapted the statement to his own purposes – made it my admission of the inevitability of my death. My surrender to him. Were that true, I might even have the element of surprise on my side. If you expect surrender, you don't put up your defenses. Then again, perhaps he had merely smiled because I had told him not to worry about a death for which he knew he was completely responsible.

I returned quietly to the Green Forest, gazing blankly at the table ahead as I thought.

"Well I got some packin' ta do before tomorrow, Nak. I'll catch ya later, eh?" Ruger pushed his chair back, shooting me with the same mock-gun hand sign using his thumb and forefinger as he stood up.

My drink was nearly gone now, and the bitter taste had quickly begun to wear on me. I bit down on the straw as I saw Ruger make the gun sign at me and remained silent until he had walked away. _It won't happen._

Heading back to the bar, Ruger paid his bill for the night. I could see a bit of unsteadiness in his canter that made me wonder for a second just how much he had drunk before I'd arrived. The thought was interrupted as he passed by me again on his way to his room at the inn. "Night, Nak. Don't be weird," was all he said. I expected more somehow, but that was all there was. He walked away up the steps to the inn and out of sight, carefully measuring his balance with each step.

Looking around, I became aware that no one else was left in the bar, save for myself and the barkeeper. Half empty glasses and trash littered the other tables and floors. Where had everyone gone? _Sleeping perhaps. Not crepuscular, I suppose. What time is it? Should I sleep?_

It was pitch black outside. Only the aura of the Candle pressed in around the rim of the doorway. After a moment longer of contemplation, I rose from my seat and left for the observatory.


	13. Hunter's Mark - Anchor

Chapter Excerpt:

"All right then. Off we go!"

Ruger began walking, and I followed alongside him silently. As the village disappeared out of sight behind us, I began to pay more attention to where Ruger's hands, pistols, and rifles were. I was discrete enough that he didn't notice, but I was constantly vigilant. If he really planned to use this day as his chance to shoot me, there would be no chance at least of him having the first strike. Over the course of a few hours, we made our way north through the canyon, and shortly before the sun hit directly overhead, the plains of the Nibel area came into view, framed between two final rises of red rock.

"There we go," Ruger exclaimed triumphantly. "Betchyou thought we were lost, huh?"

"I lived here for fifty years growing up, Ruger. I know this canyon like the back of my paw."

Ruger stopped and glanced back at me with a quizzical look, peering out from under the brim of his hat. "The back 'a your paw?"

"What?" I asked. "That **is** the saying, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he responded, laughing under his breath. "Yeah, it is. You know the Nibel area just as good?"

"No, not as well… Maybe like the back of my ear, if we use the same type of idiom. I know it's there – I just don't see it very often."

The quizzical look had turned to a full-blown smile.

* * *

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki finds his bearings and at long last sets out on a hunting trip with Onuris. A pdf of the entire fifth section of the story, titled Hunter's Mark (four chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Hunter's Mark

* * *

Anchor

Regardless of the time, I was unable to sleep. Perhaps it was excitement in anticipation of the next day, or perhaps it was apprehension, or maybe dread. Back in the observatory, Marin's nap during the day had left her wide awake too, so we kept each other company well into the night. We spoke for some time on a number of subjects and then relaxed in silence for a while and let the ambience of the night flow over us like water. I found myself thinking about my dream from the night before for some reason – about the island in the valley, and my father, the rising water, and the ship and great chain. I couldn't make sense of it. It was the kind of dream that felt as though it had some underlying meaning, but I could not crack it.

"Are you happy they're leaving tomorrow?" came Marin's voice after some time, breaking the silence and startling me.

The answer was obvious, but it took a moment for me to form my response. "I think so."

"They're disrespectful."

"They are."

"Are you still angry?"

Again, the answer seemed obvious, but I found difficulty this time in forming my response. I thought back to my time in the red haze earlier in the day, watching Ruger from atop the village. I remembered the resolution I'd made, that by my teeth and my claws, I would end him. "I was," I responded. _What good would it do beyond satisfying my own base desire for revenge? What would it solve? _"But I've had some time now to clear my head and think rationally about this situation." _What would it say about me? _My conversation in the pub with Ruger came back to me. _Man or beast? _"I'm upset to be sure, but beyond that, I don't know."

"You looked like you were about ready to hurt someone this afternoon. In all the years I've known you, I've not ever seen that look in your eye. It was frightening."

"Then I apologize for that, Marin. You've certainly been through enough in the last twenty-four hours that you should not have to see me like that."

Marin smiled and patted me on the back near the base of my mane. "I know that isn't you, Nanaki."

It irritated me at first – I've never been partial to 'petting' in any form – but as she did it and the irritation passed, I found I had relaxed. _Bear your heart… _ "What lies at the root of it I think is that I've failed to protect the people of the canyon. That's been my mission my entire life, and I think it's where it all stems from. The shock, the dismay. The sadness. The anger. The desire to take action. I think that's where it comes from."

"Everyone in this village knows your drive to protect them Nanaki. You're fooling yourself if you think otherwise. And that's why, no matter how long you're gone, you'll always have a home here. It's terrible, what happened here last night, and I know you feel responsible. I know you're not happy they just get to leave tomorrow and go back to their homes after what they've done here, but… Maybe it's not your responsibility to go looking for revenge."

I became aware of a feeling of guilt within me. Somehow, I had taken Marcus's disappearance and made it about me. _How selfish. _"You don't think so?" I asked.

"No," Marin responded. "It may make you feel better for the moment, but in the end it only makes everything worse. Because revenge begets only revenge. It would only put you and us in more danger."

In my mind, I heard the great chain striking the hull of the ship again, once, then twice, then three times. And then I saw my father standing on the island in the middle of the valley, petrified, weeping, as the waters around him began to rise. He was overtaken, and he was gone, and all that remained was the rising tide. "Was it so obvious that that was my plan? I thought I hid it pretty well."

"There's fire in your heart, Nanaki, and the cooler your exterior, the easier it is to see."

"Hm. I see…" The pounding against the hull of the ship again, like a gunshot in my mind. _It was an anchor._ I remembered the fear I had felt that the ship would shatter under the force, sending me plummeting into the water below. _But why?_

"You're pounding your tail against the ground."

"Hm?" I asked, somewhat lost in thought. Sure enough, the beat of my tail thumping against the floor sounded in my ears, mimicking the rhythm of the chain in my mind. I broke from my thoughts long enough to silence it. "Oh… I hadn't noticed. I apologize."

Marin's eyes remained on my tail for a moment, and then she spoke. "Do you remember what you said to me when I first came to Cosmo Canyon?"

"No, I don't." There was something about the chain… I couldn't quite remember.

"I do. When I came here as a little scientist in training, you told me that the study of Planet Life is as much spiritual as it is scientific. That the philosophy underlying Planet Life is just as important as the mechanics guiding it. That was something I couldn't understand at the time: How science and emotion could go hand in hand to create a field like the study of Planet Life. To me, it had to be cold, calculating, and emotionless. Science based in philosophy was biased. But I've realized in the many years since then that philosophy is much greater than a bias. It's a direction, like a guiding force that leads us through life. And it means there's room in our science for emotion and compassion. If I had realized that sooner, I might still be a scientist. Our philosophy is that we have compassion and respect for life, regardless of the circumstance, and that we don't kill for the sake of killing. If it is to be followed, then there is room for forgiveness for what's been done, but not for revenge."

_Tbere was something on the chain, crawling along it, and...it… looked at me… It terrified me…_ "You make a compelling case." I thought for a long moment, and then suddenly, almost inexplicably, it all made sense to me, and I knew how to proceed. "I wouldn't worry, Marin. Anchor's up. That ship has set sail."

Marin smiled sweetly at me. "I'm happy to hear that." She patted me firmly on the shoulder a few times and then asked, "Are you still going to go out with Onuris tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, I believe so. I told him I would, and so I will."

The smile faded slightly. "And I won't try to stop you. Be careful though. He isn't bound by the same philosophy as us, and it's obvious to me that he wants you more than any white hippogriff."

"No worries, Marin. I will protect myself should the need arise." I smiled reassuringly back at her, consciously avoiding showing my teeth, and then averted my gaze. A yawn erupted a few seconds later, sudden and uncontrollable. Once it had exhausted itself, I spoke again. "In any case, I think sunrise will arrive sooner than either of us would like at this point. What would you say to some sleep?"

"Well from the looks of that yawn, you're ready at least. Would you like to have your bed back?"

"No, no, you're fine. That bed and I haven't seen eye to eye since I've been back. It seems to have treated you better, so it's all yours."

"Where will you sleep though?" Marin asked with a hint of concern.

"Anywhere there's a horizontal surface," I returned lightheartedly. "I'll head into the planetarium, I think. Sleep under a different night sky tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, it's no problem. I've been sleeping in the wild for the past few years. I think I can handle the observatory."

"I suppose so… Well you take care not to oversleep then. It won't get light in there at dawn like it will out here."

I smiled again. "I'll leave the door open."

"Ok then. Goodnight Nanaki. And thank you."

I was struck by her thanks, caught off-guard. It felt as though she had thanked me for something I hadn't done. I did not know how to respond. "Goodnight, Marin."

I overslept. I knew it as soon as I awoke. Like jolt of electricity, the realization surged through me. I had fallen asleep under the broken display of the night sky, the door to the rest of the observatory left wide open, and I had overslept. I sprung to my feet from full recumbence, so alarmed that it took me a moment to remember, firstly, where I was, and, secondly, which way to turn to find the door.

To my right, a dim beam of yellow-white light, hardly enough to be noticed even while looking at it, shone in through the doorway and cast an even dimmer yellow rectangle of light on the ground. I was out both doors and down the hatch into the village proper in what seemed like seconds.

Breakfast had already been started in the kitchen, I saw, though it was still cooking. I reasoned with myself that it couldn't be too awfully late if breakfast was still in progress. When I reached the stairs outside leading down to the entrance of the village, I saw that the hunter camp had all but vanished. What remained in the morning light were a single tent, already mostly taken down, and two rifles laid across each other on the ground a short distance away. There were no hunters anywhere in the village that I saw, but I thought perhaps that the remaining few could be hidden away in the pub, hoping to get a last look at Ruger before he left. However, upon investigation I found the pub empty. A glance at the ledger in the inn showed me that Ruger had checked out some time before my arrival.

_He's gone…_

I hadn't exactly been looking forward to accompanying him on his hunt, but I left the inn oddly disappointed. Outside, I looked around and found the grounds strangely empty. I remembered the enormous crowd the day that Ruger had arrived, how full to the brim the village had been, how I was able to gauge Ruger's distance by the unseen roar of his fans.

…_Gone now…_ I began walking toward the stairs to head back up to the observatory, but on a whim, I took a left and headed down the steps leading out of the village. At the bottom, I stopped and looked back over my shoulder. Only the very top of the welcome sign was visible, the large, block letters 'SMO CANY' eclipsed by the rim of the landing at the top of the steps. Above the sign, the blades of a windmill swept by in the distance every few seconds, right to left, turned gently by a breeze that I couldn't feel.

The sky was perfectly clear, a crisp kind of cerulean blue that seemed by virtue of its vividness to saturate and deepen the red of the rock in the canyon to a near-bloody hue. The sun, still low in the sky, cast long, deep shadows across the path in front of me that made it look as though a great hand was poised in the sky, fingers spread, to grab any traveler unfortunate enough to happen by.

After double-checking the skyline ahead, just to be sure, I took a few steps away from the village, out into the shadows. Almost immediately, a voice came from behind me, off to my right.

"Didn' think you were comin'."

I wheeled around to find Ruger sat down against a rock with his arms laid over his knees, watching me with a cool, relaxed smile on his face. "And I didn't expect you to wait," I responded.

Next to Ruger stood both of his rifles and a hiking backpack, propped up against the rocks. I found it hard to believe he had all of his belongings with him packed away into one backpack, but then again, perhaps he was a light packer. In any case, it looked as though I would be accompanying him after all.

I thought once more at about what my plan for the day would be, and for a moment, I wavered. I remembered what I'd said to Marin, and I remembered the anger and conviction I'd felt when I smelled the blood outside Marin's hut. And ultimately, I remembered the stone visage of my father, standing on the island in the lake, and my resolve was redoubled. As high as the tide might rise, I would stay afloat. Ruger would live, provided he kept his sights off me.

"Wouldn' think of leavin' without ya. D'you get somethin' ta eat? That why you're late?"

"No, I just had a late night. I've gotten my circadian rhythms out of order the past few days," I responded. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah, I grabbed somethin' at the inn 'fore I checked out. Gonna be a long day today. Might wanna get somethin' real quick too so your stomach doesn't start growlin' at ya when we're out in the middle 'a nowhere."

"I'll be fine. I don't need to eat every day." _Not to mention how that hare from the other night put me off food in general…_

"Suit yourself. You 'bout ready to get goin' then?"

"I am."

"Well then, le's hit the road." Ruger took his hands off his knees and planted them at his sides, using them to push himself up to his feet with so much force it looked like he'd somehow hopped up. As he slung his pack onto his shoulders and holstered his rifles, he spoke. "So the reports I had comin' in to this were that there's been sightin's in the Gongaga area, the Cosmo area, and the southern reaches of the Nibel area. I trawled all over the Gongaga and Cosmo areas the past few days, no real hot leads, so I figure the only place left is the Nibel area. We're gonna head there today and see what we can find. Prolly camp out tonight if we don't have any luck, then head toward Nibelheim tomorrow. Work for you?"

"Sure. I will probably not head into Nibelheim with you, but beyond that, it all sounds fine."

"All right then. Off we go!"

Ruger began walking, and I followed alongside him silently. As the village disappeared out of sight behind us, I began to pay more attention to where Ruger's hands, pistols, and rifles were. I was discrete enough that he didn't notice, but I was constantly vigilant. If he really planned to use this day as his chance to shoot me, there would be no chance at least of him having the first strike. Over the course of a few hours, we made our way north through the canyon, and shortly before the sun hit directly overhead, the plains of the Nibel area came into view, framed between two final rises of red rock.

"There we go," Ruger exclaimed triumphantly. "Betchyou thought we were lost, huh?"

"I lived here for fifty years growing up, Ruger. I know this canyon like the back of my paw."

Ruger stopped and glanced back at me with a quizzical look, peering out from under the brim of his hat. "The back 'a your paw?"

"What?" I asked. "That **is** the saying, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he responded, laughing under his breath. "Yeah, it is. You know the Nibel area just as good?"

"No, not as well… Maybe like the back of my ear, if we use the same type of idiom. I know it's there – I just don't see it very often."

The quizzical look had turned to a full-blown smile. "Arright. I gotcha. Just wanted to see if ya maybe knew the lay 'a the land before we got goin', maybe if there was a place you'd start lookin' at."

"I see. Unfortunately, I won't be able to help you there. Even if I could though, don't you think that 'ruins the spirit of the hunt' if I start off telling you all the answers?"

"Yeah, maybe. Jus' thought I'd try though… On a bit of a time crunch, ya know? I wasn't plannin' on bein' homeless during this whole thing."

We started walking again, making our way down into the grassy plains that stretched out before us.

"…Did anyone confess to you?" I asked after some time in silence.

"About what?" Ruger asked.

The question seemed more aimed at getting me to make an accusation than it was at getting him a clearer explanation of what I'd said. I almost didn't respond, but something deep inside me made me speak. "About killing our villager."

"Oh, that," he said nonchalantly. "No. An' I still don't see why you think it was any of us."

"The residents of Cosmo Canyon don't kill each other. Given that there have only been two parties in the canyon the past few days, it doesn't leave much choice."

"So?" He was suddenly irritated. "You know, you sciencey types… Given that you say you can only go where the evidence leads, you sure do seem willin' to jump to conclusions on this. What evidence you got it was one of us?"

I tried to line up the evidence in my mind, but all I could see were the scent of blood, the gunshot, and Marin's unfamiliar voices. Viewed objectively, it was all circumstantial at best. In my heart, I knew it had been a hunter, but it occurred to me now that I could do very little to prove it. And so I said nothing.

"Right," Ruger said after a moment. "Well in any case, if we're gonna be spendin' the day together, we prolly should avoid that particular topic, yeah?"

"Perhaps that would be best."

A half hour passed, more or less in silence, with Ruger only giving suggestions for where our next destination in the plains should be. At one point as we searched along the margins of a thickly forested area, his eyes lit up, and he spoke.

"Hmph. You remember that story I told the other night around the campfire back in the village?"

"The Cosmo Candle. Yes, I do."

"Yeah, well it just occurred to me. I'm thinkin' this is the same forest where that Nibel bear tried to poke out my eye."

"Hm. Is it now?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so. Funny that we jus' kinda wandered right back here again."  
"Small world, I suppose."

"You know it. Funny I got another clawed critter with me this time too. You don't wanna poke my eyes out, right?"

I didn't say anything for a moment, mostly just to gauge Ruger's reaction. "I think your eyes are fine where they are." And then I added, "For the moment."

Ruger got a chuckle out of my remark, although there was a slight nervousness underpinning it. "Glad to hear it, Nak. Pretty sure my pistols wouldn't be enough ta put you down like with the bear anyways, so that's good to hear."

_Put me down?_ The way he said it made it sound like it was a proposition into which he had put considerable thought – which of his guns would be best able to dispatch me. Perhaps I was reading too much into it.

"Do you want to check in the forest?" I asked.

"Nah, I think we're good. Hippogriffs tend to stick to open areas. They're flyers, ya know, but they're real big, so they aren't real agile in the air. An' since they hunt on the wing, they gotta have a clean shot at their prey. Get 'em into closed forest like this 'n they can't maneuver. Ya go around smackin' into branches and tree trunks 'n ya don't catch dinner, right? So they steer clear of the forest."

"Interesting. I hadn't thought about that."

"Yeah, they're real cool animals. Don't really hear a lot about 'em or see 'em in books since they're so rare, but get out in the wild 'n see 'em with your own eyes, and you never forget."

"I'm still having trouble with that."

"With what?"

"How you can so coldly kill something you just described as "really cool."

"Ain't nothin' cold about it, Nak. 'At's just life. It's kill or be killed sometimes. An' you know, way back in the day, before we had cameras 'n all that stuff, killin' things used to be the only way to show other people what you saw out in the wild. People who were real interested in wildlife shot the livin' hell out of it so they could share it with other people. An' even now, it's the only way to get hands-on experience with the wild. Lookin's great, but there's nothin' matches gettin' to touch 'n feel 'n study animals up close."

"So… you kill animals because you want to touch them."

Ruger's brow furrowed into an absurdly perplexed expression. "…The way you said that made it sound kinda weird. But yeah, that's part of it. It's about having proof 'a the experience, ya know? If you can touch it and manipulate it, it's more real. You make a connection with it, ya know? If it runs away 'n all you get is a half-second glimpse, it might as well not even have happened."

"Well… As long as you don't plan on touching me, I guess I can handle that."

In a split-second, Ruger looked me over, almost as if he were sizing me up. "Wouldn't think of it," he said with a smile. It sounded almost facetious, but perhaps, again, I was just reading too much into it.

We continued on, heading away from the forest, but my curiosity was still piqued. "So why do you want this hippogriff dead then? Can't be for the 'hands-on experience' if you've already had it. Isn't the animal 'cooler' if it's still alive?"

"Nah, Nak. Not this one. This one's a problem animal. Not a monster, per se, but hikers been disappearin' across these parts the past year or so, 'n the only thing tyin' the disappearances together is this hippogriff. Big bastard by all accounts, even by hippogriff standards. White fur 'n feathers, eyes blue like water. No way that's describin' more 'n one animal. So last month a bounty wen' up on it, an' now here I am. This one deserves to die."

_Deserves to die... _"I see…" And then a moment later, "Any evidence it was this hippogriff that killed the hikers, or any evidence the hikers are even dead?"

"That's the beauty of gettin' eaten, Nak. Not a whole lot of evidence left behind. But there's been a couple eye witnesses, say they saw this white hippogriff carryin' someone off, yeah. Also got feathers, long as your arm, from a couple diff'rent locations. Tracks too. And given there's not s'posed ta be any hippogriffs 'round these parts, I'd say that's more'n enough to go on."

"Hm."


	14. Hunter's Mark - Hunter's Mark

Chapter Excerpt:

"This should be int'resting to see," Ruger said in a surprisingly serious tone. "So it's real simple. You right or left-handed?"

"Hm… It's not something that comes up often, so I suppose I'm probably fairly ambidextrous."

Ruger stared at me blankly for a moment and then said, "Makes sense I guess. Well pick a shoulder then. You're gonna line the rifle up along that side a your body, whichever side you choose. Hold the stock of the rifle with the hand on that side a your body and hold the barrel about halfway down with the other. Keep your finger off the trigger for now. Err, your keep your toes… or whatever. …Jus' don't touch the trigger."

I followed his instructions as best I could, making sure I kept an eye on him as I did to see that he wasn't going to give me a preemptive demonstration with the other rifle. It was difficult. I couldn't seem to wrap my paws entirely around the barrel of the rifle, and my dewclaws are far enough separated from the rest of my digits that gripping the stock was nigh impossible. Ultimately, I made do by wrapping my fourth digits around as makeshift 'thumbs,' so that I had at least a decent grip on the weapon. After a few awkward moments, I was more or less ready to go.

* * *

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Ruger teaches Nanaki to shoot a rifle, and the hunt draws to a deadly close. A pdf of the entire fifth section of the story, titled Hunter's Mark (four chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Hunter's Mark

The next few hours of our search were fruitless, leading us all across the Nibel area. We eventually made our way out to the coast and walked along the beaches for some time, watching the skies out over the ocean as much as we watched the sand up ahead. While keeping a discrete eye on Ruger, I noticed frustration beginning to manifest on his face. I wasn't sure what to make of it. On the one hand, it seemed like definite evidence that this alleged white hippogriff was, in fact, the target of Ruger's hunt, but on the other hand, if the hippogriff successfully evaded him, I wondered if he would shift his sights to another, decidedly more accessible target.

"Son of a bitch," Ruger muttered at one point as we climbed over a pile of driftwood that had been deposited on the beachfront. His frustration had apparently come to a head. "Not a sign of it. I swear, unless the damn thing's nesting **in** Nibelheim, we shoulda run across it by now, or at least've seen a sign of it. 'S gettin' freakin' ridiculous."

"Surely it's taken more than a week for you to find your mark in the past."

"Usually got somethin' ta go on by now at least. Wouldn't be nearly as bad if I had a lead."

"Then you must not have searched the right places for clues."

Ruger grunted indignantly. "Been over every corner of this whole damn continent, feels like. Shoulda seen something."

All was quiet for a few moments except for our footsteps in the sand and the rush of waves at our side. I broke the mildly uncomfortable silence. "Perhaps it's time to call off the search then." I intended it as a suggestion, but it was taken as a bit of reverse psychology.

"I got one more idea. Still don't think this guy's gonna be in the forest, but I'm wonderin' if he might be wired like a mountain eagle."

"Like a mountain eagle?"

"Yeah. Let's get headin' back to the southeast. Gonna do a little climb here 'fore

the light starts fadin'."

We left the beach and headed back into the plains. The mountains ahead of us loomed large, giving a false impression of nearness – they were at least a couple hours' walk away, but they felt as though they were just out of arm's reach. As we made our way through a field of high grass, I spoke. "You didn't really explain before. What you meant by saying the hippogriff might be wired like a mountain eagle. How does that help?"

"Was thinkin' maybe they hunt in the same way."

"I see… How is that?"

Ruger glanced over at me with an amused expression on his face. "Thought you said you grew up in these parts, Nak. Mister 'I lived here for 50 years – I know it like the back a my hand.' Been all over the world 'n you don't know animal behavior in your own backyard?"

_What's it to you? _"Sorry I asked."

"Eh. It's all good," Ruger said, returning his attention to the path ahead. "Mountain eagles like ta ambush their prey. Big livestock type animals 'n stuff. They fly in on 'em when they're hikin' little narrow cliffs way up in the air 'n knock 'em off. Animal falls off the cliff, hits the ground, 'n the eagle comes 'n cleans up. Free meal basically."

"Hm. Interesting. But I thought you said that hippogriffs like wide open spaces like the plains. Why would it go into the mountains?"

"Just like any wild animal, you gotta go where the food is. There's some big game out here on the plains, but it's pretty rare. If there's more food in the mountains that's easier to catch, I betcha that hippogriff would be all over it. 'Specially if it hunts like a mountain eagle."

I didn't respond.

"…Leastways, maybe we'll find some signs of it. I'll take about anything at this point." And then, abruptly, "See that pass in the mountains way off in the distance? Seems like a likely place to me. Enough high cliffs all around to hunt, but it's still spread out enough that it'd have an open view of its surroundings. Think that's where we're headed." Ruger stopped for a moment and grabbed the mythril rifle from its holster on his pack. A quick jolt of adrenaline coursed through me, instinctive more than anything, but no sooner had it triggered than it passed, all but forgotten.

Without hesitation, Ruger brought the rifle's scope to his eye and peered through it in the direction of the mountain pass. As he scanned, I shifted my sights, first to the pistols at his waist, and then to the wooden stock of his second rifle, still fastened to his travelling pack. A glint of light on the stock caught my eye, and upon more careful inspection, I noticed a pair of polished gems set into it, one purple, and one blue. Materia.

"Mmph…" Ruger grumbled. "Can't really make out anythin' from here. Not really what this scope's made for, ya know?" Ruger said.

I hardly heard him. I can't say why the materia transfixed me as it did, but for a moment, the two gems were all I saw. When they lurched suddenly forward, the spell was broken, and I came back to attention. The mythril rifle had been holstered again, and Ruger had begun walking.

Over his shoulder, he called back at me, "C'mon, Nak, don't fall behind. We're on a deadline here."

I broke into a trot and then into a slow gallop to catch up to him, and we continued on. The mountains drew closer and closer as time passed, rising higher and higher before us until we found ourselves on their doorstep, running right alongside their foothills. Snow capped the mountains' peaks, a reminder of the winter to come, but the snowline was still close to the peaks. As winter neared, it would descend, but for now it remained at bay.

Ruger made no further moves toward his guns, but when he spoke, the same adrenaline spike ran through me. "I seen you eyeballin' my guns all day today."

My eye widened, and I felt my stomach twist into a knot. I didn't break stride though, and as far as I could tell, that was all Ruger noticed.

"Wha's up with that?"

I couldn't find the right words to begin building my lie. It was something I hadn't even considered, him noticing that I was watching. I had no fall back.

"You wanna learn how to shoot or somethin'?"

_Works for me. _"I don't know if I would be any good."

"Prolly not. Jus' bein' honest. But hey, no harm in tryin', right?"

"What about our deadline?"

"Eh. There's always time to teach someone to shoot a gun."

With that said, Ruger hoisted his backpack off his shoulders and set it indelicately on the ground. Unbuckling the latch on the top of the pack, he knelt down to open it and began rummaging around inside, looking for something. After a moment, he withdrew, pulling back a glass bottle held firmly in his right hand. The word 'ICICLE' was written across the front of it in big block letters. I couldn't tell if it was an alcohol bottle or bottled water – the glass was clear, but the bottle was empty. No way to know.

"Stay here a sec," he said to me, getting up. He walked about 15 paces away and set the bottle down on top of a rock, about my shoulder height off the ground. Returning, he grabbed his wooden-stocked rifle from its holster and was about to hand it to me when it appeared he had a slight change of heart. The rifle was reholstered and its mythril counterpart was brought to me. "There ya go."

I sat down and balanced on my hindquarters so that I could try to grab the rifle with both front paws. It was a bit awkward to hold, but I didn't drop it, so I considered that a minor success.

"This should be int'resting to see," Ruger said in a surprisingly serious tone. "So it's real simple. You right or left-handed?"

"Hm… It's not something that comes up often, so I suppose I'm probably fairly ambidextrous."

Ruger stared at me blankly for a moment and then said, "Makes sense I guess. Well pick a shoulder then. You're gonna line the rifle up along that side a your body, whichever side you choose. Hold the stock of the rifle with the hand on that side a your body and hold the barrel about halfway down with the other. Keep your finger off the trigger for now. Err, your keep your toes… or whatever. …Jus' don't touch the trigger."

I followed his instructions as best I could, making sure I kept an eye on him as I did to see that he wasn't going to give me a preemptive demonstration with the other rifle. It was difficult. I couldn't seem to wrap my paws entirely around the barrel of the rifle, and my dewclaws are far enough separated from the rest of my digits that gripping the stock was nigh impossible. Ultimately, I made do by wrapping my fourth digits around as makeshift 'thumbs,' so that I had at least a decent grip on the weapon. After a few awkward moments, I was more or less ready to go.

"Arright now, you're gonna look through that scope with one eye without closin' the other and just try to center up the bottle in the scope. When you do, try to steady yourself, and then gently squeeze the trigger to shoot. Keep the stock of the gun slightly away from your body and hold the weapon tight so you don't pummel yourself with the recoil."

I looked down the scope. Getting the bottle into view was maddeningly difficult for a few reasons. First, the way I held the gun, my eye was on the wrong side of my body. I had to crane my neck to be able to see through the scope in the first place. Second, my awkward grip on the gun made my aim alarmingly shaky and unstable. Last, the bottle was so close that on the rare occasion that I did get it in view, it took up the entire field and was gone in an instant with me only having seen a giant letter 'I' for my efforts.

I grew frustrated quickly, and after a few unsuccessful minutes, I decided to try and time my shot. There was no way I would be able to keep the bottle in view for more than a second, so I would just shoot during that second it was there. And so I aimed, and as soon as the 'I' came into view, I fired.

The sound, which rolled away and returned from the mountains in thunderous echoes, was not nearly as loud as I thought it would be. The recoil, on the other hand, was far greater than I expected. I almost entirely lost my grip on the rifle. The shot missed horribly, sailing off to parts unknown and unseen. Were it physically possible, I would say I even missed the ground, but given it was the first shot I'd ever taken, I wasn't entirely surprised.

"Well that was… Hmph," Ruger said, slightly speechless, as I scrambled to regain my grip on the rifle. "Yeah, a little wide there, Nak. Let's see… So you gotta reload now. Y'see that bolt there on the side?"

I examined the side of the rifle, finding a metal ball on the end of a metal rod embedded in the gun. "This?"

"Yeah, so you're gonna flip that up, pull it back, then push it back in, 'n flip it back in place. Be forceful or it won't work right."

I did as he said, flipping, pulling, pushing, and flipping the bolt, and only once did it slip through my grip.

"Arright you're ready to try again. Maybe try layin' down this time. Help steady your aim a bit."

I rolled forward onto all fours and lay down. It did seem to help with aiming, but it made gripping the rifle that much more difficult. I had to turn myself about 45 degrees from the rifle in order to get a firm hold of it, and it mostly prevented me from using the scope.

"Give it a go, Nak. Aim, deep breath, then squeeze it."

I took a moment to find the 'I' in the scope and then took a deep breath and shot. The gun tried to wrestle itself loose from my grasp again, but I was able to hold on this time. A puff of smoke erupted from the side of the rock, about halfway down to the ground and well to the right of the bottle.

_Better… _This was more difficult that I had imagined.

"Hey, ya hit the rock that time," Ruger exclaimed. "Take another shot. You'll get that bottle eventually."

"Okay…" _Flip, pull, push, flip. Grip stock, grip barrel. Steady body, look through scope, find the 'I.' Hold it…hold it… Aim a little left… And… Squeeze. _The rifle fired, and a split-second later, the bottle shattered. I jumped a bit, not from excitement but rather from shock. I hadn't expected to hit it any time soon, so to see it essentially disintegrate surprised me.

"Haha! You nailed it!" Ruger shouted, clapping for me.

The shock turned quickly to bewilderment, as I was unsure how to proceed. There was a definite gratifying feeling underlying it all, but I didn't understand why. I had shot a bottle. It was nothing. And had it been something, I would have felt horrible. So why this feeling then? After a moment of watching the bare rock, half-hoping the bottle would reappear atop it, the only thing I found myself able to say was, "I suppose I am done then."

Ruger stopped clapping almost instantly, taking my ambivalence for indignation, and said, "Hey now, Nak. It's no big deal. Just a glass bottle. Look, I'll even pick up the shards." He walked over to the rock and grabbed up the majority of the broken pieces strewn about. As he found a place to store them in his hiking pack, he asked me, "So you really didn' like it, eh?"

"I don't know," I responded. "I prefer my claws, I think."

"Fair enough. Maybe if you'd been shootin' guns for how ever many years you been usin' your claws, you'd think different."

"Maybe."

"It's like a second nature to me. Didn't even take me 200 years for it to get that way either. Just been shootin' since I was little." Ruger grabbed the rifle from me, reloaded it, and fastened it back into place on his pack. Slinging the pack back over his shoulders, he waved me over and we resumed our course. "Think I saw a good path up into the foothills while we were walking up here from the fields. About a half hour down the way," he said, pointing ahead of us.

After a minute of walking, Ruger continued his story. "Anyways, I been shootin' since I was little. Still have the first rifle I ever owned, you know." He reached around to his side and retrieved the wooden-stocked rifle with the two materia in it. "Don' know if I told ya already, but it was a gift from my daddy… From the year before he died. Bolt action, refined mythril barrel, polished hardwood stock, engraved adamantite hammer, two linked materia slots, the works. Had this girl for damn near twenty-five years now. Same Pre-emptive Strike materia, same All materia… Don' actually use 'er much anymore on account a her crooked barrel 'n sticky hammer. But she's all I got left a him, so even though she don' shoot straight and a lot of her finer engravings are all worn off, she's still special ta me. Reminds me a him, 'n I think that's what matters more'n anythin'." He paused momentarily, perhaps expecting me to respond. "What about you? You got anything left of your parents?

My thoughts shifted immediately to my father's petrified body, eroded away at the pinnacle of Seto's Watch. _All I got left… Reminds me a him… That's what matters… _"I… I have a comb of my father's. To be honest, I didn't come into possession of it until long after he was gone, but… I suppose it's largely the same to me as your rifle is to you. I haven't worn it in ages, but…"

"A comb? Like a hairbrush?"

"Somewhat. It isn't exactly like a hairbrush, but it goes into my mane all the same."

Ruger laughed. "Didn' know that about you, Nak. Personal groomin' high on your list 'a priorities, 'r is it just like playin' dress-up?"

I scowled at him. "It was a weapon. One of many I've collected over the years."

"Oh, so you got a whole collection 'a combs? Don' tell me you got hairpins 'n hairclips 'n barrettes too."

I said nothing and continued walking, looking straight ahead.

Ruger picked up on the cue and backtracked ever so slightly. "I mean I trust you 'n all. You say it's a weapon, then it's a weapon. Just seems ta me a grown fella collectin' hair accessories, whether he's a human or a… whatever you are… Just seems kinda girly." And then after another moment of silence: "I'm mean I'm not sayin' you're girly or you…you know…take the road less travelled 'r anythin' like that. Which, that'd be okay if ya did – I mean I don't, but that's fine if you do – I mean I don' even know if that's even a thing with your kind. Ya got all the right parts 'n all, but… err, not that I'm lookin' or anything, but—"

"Ruger," I said gruffly, interrupting him midsentence. "Do yourself a favor and stop talking."

He watched me for a moment as we continued on, perhaps trying to determine to what degree he had offended me, and then, as if to drive home the point he had so elegantly been making, he reiterated under his breath, "Combs… hmph."

Nothing else was said. We went on in silence, and the awkwardness of the conversation lingered. In a desperate attempt to change the topic, I eventually asked Ruger, "So, that old gun from your father with the two materia in it… Seems like it isn't something you would bring along with you on the road. Especially if it's that important to you."

"Still has its uses. You know how a pre-emptive strike materia works?"

"I've run across a few in my time. Don't know that I've looked into how they work though."

"Real simple. Usually they'll light up a real bright purple color if there's an enemy around. You see the light, you have the jump on the enemy."

"I see. And if you don't see the light?"

"Well, that's where mine comes in handy. See, my preemptive strike is actually stuck in the gun. Happened a long time ago, can't get the bugger out no matter how hard I try now. Would prolly have to destroy the gun ta get at it, and that ain't happenin'. Thing is, ever since I got it stuck in there, it's changed how it works. Still lights up like normal, but it makes this real strong vibration now too." He motioned back and forth with his hand as he spoke.

"It vibrates?"

"Yep. As if the gun's accuracy wasn' bad enough already, right? But it's a real strong vibration, so I can feel it even when it's holstered. So it at least lets me know when I can get my good rifle out."

"Interesting. So it's still worth bringing along, despite the risk of damaging it. Still, were it me, I think I might leave it at home." I thought about it for a moment. "Where is 'home' anyways?"

"You know where Kalm is?" Ruger asked.

"Yes. I've been through there a few times. That's where you were born, right?"

"Yeah. Got a house out east a there now, not too far from where I grew up. Don' get out there much though."

"Always another hunt waiting for you."

"Somethin' like that. There's a lot of world out there, ya know?"

"It's true. …You know, the first time I ever travelled through those plains, I ended up getting chased through the marshes by a Midgar Zolom."

"Midgar Zolom, eh? My daddy told me stories 'bout those snakes growin' up. Tried to keep me from strayin' too far from the farm, I think. Said they could swallow me whole, single gulp. Never did actually get to see one though."

"Your father wasn't exaggerating, I can assure you. Nearly 100 feet long, thicker than a tree. Could have swallowed you without even noticing."

Ruger took a moment to try to imagine a snake that size, and, apparently finding humor in being eaten alive, let out a hearty laugh. "That woulda been quite a trophy. Ya know my dad always told me those snakes had some weird kinda immortality. No matter how many times you killed one, it'd always come back. Just imagine, a hundred-foot snake that wouldn' stay dead."

"You know, now that I'm thinking about it," I said, "I heard rumors that you killed a zolom once. Took a scale off its head as a trophy. That's not true?"

"Really now? My legend grows." Ruger paused, delightfully sursprised. "But no, it isn't. Somebody beat me to the punch, killed 'em to where they didn' come back somewhere along the line. I never got the chance."

"I see…"

At long last, the path into the foothills arrived. The lush green grass of the plains paled yellow, and the scent of the air shifted somewhat to the familiar earthy scent of home. As we began our climb into the pass, I noted that the rocks were less than friendly. Sharp, jagged, and more often than not, loose. It made the climb treacherous. Had I not been walking the world for so many years, I'm sure my feet would have been cut to shreds, I would have lost my footing and gone tumbling down the mountain side, or something worse, but as it were, my main concern was for Ruger's progress alongside me.

The climb left Ruger drenched in sweat and me panting heavily, but minor nuisances aside we both made it with no problems to report. The pass, sparsely covered by clumps of grass and weeds that jutted out of a broken layer of red rock, was a wide landing that ran through from the Nibel plains into the northern part of the canyon. At first glance, there appeared to be nothing of interest. No feathers, no hippogriff nests, no piles of skeletons from past meals… Nothing. And yet Ruger, through a veil of sweat and his own human scents, seemed to latch onto something in the air.

"I'm likin' this. Smells different up here."

The absurdity of the statement struck me so bluntly that I nearly began second-guessing myself. _I smell nothing out of the ordinary. What do you think you smell that I can't? _I thought for a brief instant that perhaps there was something I had missed, so obvious that I didn't recognize it, but sniffing the air again, I still detected nothing. There was a mix of grass and earth, perhaps ozone as well, all entirely expected given the habitats between which we traveled, but there was nothing else. _Typical human. In place of actual senses, intuition._

Ruger noticed me sniffing the air. "You smell it too, Nak?"

_What to say… _I decided I wanted to know what Ruger's impeccable sense of smell had picked up, so I probed for a bit more information. "I don't think I do. What is it?" I expected something amusing.

Ruger uttered a self-satisfied grunt, pairing it with a barely visible smirk. "Really? …Ok then. Yeah, it's kind of a mix between the grasslands down behind us and the canyon out ahead. The way I figure, it ain't a mix we've explored today, so that's a plus, and it connects all the different areas where people been goin' missing, so that's another plus. An' look at that view." Ruger motioned to the vista sprawled out before us. Our view was essentially unobstructed the entire way out to the ocean on the horizon. "Birds got really good distance vision. A vantage point like this, that hippogriff could pick a target out from really far away, no problem. It just makes sense."

I hadn't thought of that. It was almost embarrassing. I tried to justify my position. "Even so, I don't see or smell anything that would lead me to believe this area's been inhabited recently."

Ruger's satisfaction turned to vexation. "Well, still gotta search around. Ain't gonna jump out at us." He walked past me to begin searching, grumbling at me as he passed. "And quit bein' such a damn pessimist."

I wondered what Ruger would do if the hippogriff continued to elude him. Would he stay out on the plains until he found it? Or would this be his first defeat? Maybe he would head on to Nibelheim and stay at the inn until he could get back out onto the plains? Either way, there were only a few hours left until the sun started to set, and looking around, I saw nothing that looked even remotely promising.

A part of me was happy that the hippogriff had proven so difficult to track down. I found some solace in the fact that this supposed expert hunter could not find even a trace of the animal he intended to kill. But there was a part of me that was troubled too… Was it because it had allegedly been killing humans? That it posed a threat to the people of the canyon as long as it remained alive? Or perhaps…

The thought entered my head again: _Perhaps the reason he can't find any evidence of the hippogriff is because there is none to be found. An animal that doesn't exist leaves no prints. _I glanced down at my front feet. _But he wouldn't have spent the entire day looking for it if he were after me. Either way, it doesn't make sense. A world-renowned hunter can't find his mark for the life of him, or he is leading his prey around on an unnecessarily long walk._

I mused on the situation for several minutes as I wandered around the landing. I wasn't actively searching as Ruger wanted me to, but I thought I put up a passable enough front to convince him otherwise.

"Le's go, Nak," Ruger yelled at me in an irritated tone during my second or third lap around the landing, proving me entirely wrong. "This stuff ain't gonna just jump out 'n start dancin' for ya. Help me out here."

I snapped back to attention, fully aware I had let down the guard I had been so careful to keep up throughout the day. A quick, furtive glance showed me that Ruger's rifles and pistols were still put away. I had lucked out.

"Where should I start?"

As it turned out, it didn't matter. We each searched every inch of the pass over the course of about 30 minutes or so, and we came up empty-handed. As time drifted by, the air in the pass seemed to grow colder. I couldn't decide if it came as a result of the sun's slow descent in the sky toward the approaching sunset or if it came purely from the burgeoning look of anger in Ruger's face. Whatever it may have been, I was near-certain that I no longer wished to remain in the pass.

"Goddammit." I heard Ruger mutter to himself.

_His swearing is getting more frequent. Getting close to the end of his tether, perhaps. _I wondered if it still would be the case were he after me and not a hippogriff. "No luck?"

"Le's get outta here. Think I'm gonna break something if we stay any longer."

And so we left the pass, empty-handed and at least marginally more frustrated than when we had arrived. Ruger all but flew down the mountainside in front of me, moving with almost reckless speed, fast enough that I had trouble keeping up with him. When I reached the bottom of the mountain, he was sat down on a rock waiting for me, his pack laid in the grass beside him.

"So then," I began. "What's the plan?"

"Gotta start headin' toward Nibelheim. Gonna run outta light soon."

"Do you intend to make it there before nightfall?"

"If not, I got a little tent in my pack I can pitch. You comin' with me?"

"I can take you part of the way there anyways. I'll be returning to the canyon once it gets dark."

"Hmph." Ruger rose to his feet and grabbed his pack. "Better hurry then."

_Hurry? _His word choice seemed odd, but I didn't give it too much of a second thought.

We followed the mountains north, and for a time, Ruger was silent, his brow lowered in anger to the point that I could hardly see his eyes. All that could be heard were a slight wind blowing across the plains and the rhythmic plodding of Ruger's feet in the grass. After some time, a question came to my mind, perhaps spurred forth by his footfalls.

"I've never gone hunting with humans before, so if this is an uninformed question, you'll have to forgive me… I was wondering, is it a typical strategy for hunters to walk around looking for their targets?"

"Yeah, sometimes it is. Why?" Ruger asked in a rather accusatory tone.

"I just wanted to know. You humans have very loud footsteps. I thought it might frighten off more skittish animals."

"Oh yeah?"

"I know I could probably hear you coming from a good ways off in my sleep."

"Yeah well, comin' from someone who basically has a flare attached to their ass, I don' know how much stock I'd put into your suggestions on stealth."

I smiled slightly even though I was not amused, but I was otherwise silent.

After a moment, Ruger spoke up again. "…I mean, usually you don't wanna go walkin' around when you got skittish prey, sure, but sittin' in a hide ain't gonna do you a lotta good when you don't have a way of knowing whether the animal is in the plains or the mountains or in a canyon. 'N even if you do, a hide ain't gonna be any good if you don't got a good way of baitin' 'em in."

"True."

"Works for more common animals, but when it comes to the rare ones, you gotta track 'em. No two ways about it."

"Hm. I hadn't thought about it like that. Makes sense."

Ruger didn't acknowledge my response, and we continued on in silence. Without my noticing, the sun began to set on the plains, shattering the sky's deep cerulean hue into a broken array of reds, oranges, and tans. Our shadows behind us lengthened and softened, and the air cooled off surprisingly quickly. The breeze, which had proven rather consistent throughout the afternoon, blew cold as it travelled past us and up into the mountains, and once or twice it elicited shivers from me. Nibelheim was nowhere in sight, still many hours ahead beyond the horizon.

"It's getting dark," I said, assuming the sunset had snuck up on Ruger as well.

Ruger again gave no response, prompting me to glance over at his guns. Still holstered. His face was mostly hidden under the brim of his hat – he had pulled it down over his eyes at some point. Given the upward angle at which I had to look at him due to my height, I found myself a bit surprised, briefly wondering how he could see anything at all. All I could see of him was the flat line of his mouth, stern and unhappy in the golden light, so surely he couldn't see anything other than perhaps his boots passing back and forth below him as he walked. And yet when we came to it, he deftly avoided walking into a boulder that had rolled down out of the mountains.

"Hmph," I grunted after watching for a few moments.

After I returned my gaze to the path ahead of us, Ruger finally spoke. "You give some thought to any 'a that stuff we talked about last night?"

"I've had other things on my mind."

"Then ya ain't gonna get any better."

"I've cleared my mind. I'm better already."

"It's still there. Always gonna be there," he said confidently.

It took me a moment to respond. I felt like we were in some sort of unspoken confrontation all of a sudden. "…Then how do you propose I get better?"

"You didn' listen to a word I said."

He was silent, as was I. I wasn't sure how to respond.

"What are you doin' out here?" Ruger asked forcefully.

_I know why I agreed to come initially… _"You asked me," I said after a moment.

"And why'd you say yes?"

I knew I couldn't say why, but I couldn't think of anything else to say either. Instead, I remained silent, awaiting Ruger's next remark and listening to the sound of the wind weaving its way through the grass.

The response didn't come for several minutes. "…It's obligation, ain't it?" he asked rhetorically. "That's all I can think of. You hate huntin' and I know you don't care for me. Only thing I can come up with is you're out here because you said yes when I asked."

The sun flirted with the horizon off to our left, rendering Ruger a near-silhouette at my side, and up ahead, I thought I could see the first star of the night breaking through the atmosphere. I discovered no matter how hard I looked at it, though, I couldn't quite tell if my sight was deceiving me. Was it really there?

"And why did you ask me out here to begin with?"

Ruger willfully ignored the question and continued on with his own conversation. "You really think lettin' yourself bend to all these obligations is what I meant when I told you just to be you? You think you're gonna fix what's wrong in your head if you keep doin' your damnedest not ta think about it? Yer wrong. It's just like a hunt. You know what yer after, even if ya don' know where it is or how to find it. You still know it's there, 'n even if ya don't like what you gotta do at the end of it all, you ultimately still gotta do it or else there's no point in takin' part in the first place." He paused briefly. "Don' know what else I can say, Nak. You can say you cleared your head, but you know deep down Gillian'll be back. You're just afraid ta admit it. Hopin' somethin's true doesn' make it true."

Ruger was finished for the moment, it seemed, and for a time as we walked, he left me to my suddenly disjointed thoughts. My gaze drifted down from the phantom star ahead and came to rest on the blades of grass approaching me, step by step, and passing underfoot. _Why is he so angry about this? What does it matter to him whether I am or am not of sound mind? Maybe just projecting this failure of a hunt on me. Or… it's just his personality, perhaps. He has to be right, and the fact that I disregarded his advice… _I thought about any other possible alternatives, and eventually came to the conclusion that that had to be it. He wanted to be right, and by ignoring his advice, I had annulled it. And yet somehow, I didn't feel vindicated…

_But… Is he right? That I'm afraid? _I remembered the overpowering fear of seeing the creature in my dreams, climbing the chain from the depths of the emerald green lake. _Is it really fear though? _I searched for another word, any other word, to use instead of 'fear,' and I came back with empty paws. Surely there was another name for it… But the question edged its way back to the front of my mind, irrefutable proof that I already knew the answer. _Is it fear? Why can't I admit it? …And even if I were to change… to be just me… What would that mean?_

In my gut, I knew that it meant I would ultimately be alone. To truly be myself would be to abandon my humanity. To abandon my obligations would be to abandon my ties to civilization. Was that something I could do? My entire life, spent trying to integrate into human society, for what? The camaraderie? Friends? Family? If those obligations were at the root of my sense of loneliness, would abandoning them solve anything? How could being alone combat Gilligan, something that manifested from my sense of loneliness? _If Gilligan is my fear of being alone… my fear of abandonment… How does choosing to be alone help it?_

I had no idea how far we had walked in the time it took me to follow that path of logic. Even as it all presented itself to me, it seemed nearly incomprehensible, as though there were some truth in it all that was obscured by my own flow of consciousness.

My thoughts began to shift to the study of Planet Life, where I was sure the answer lay, and I became so absorbed in it all that I didn't see Ruger begin to lag behind, bit by bit, until he was entirely out of sight. I didn't hear him set his pack down on the ground or the sound of the holster straps being undone. The dull metallic knock of the bolt sliding back into place was all I heard through the fog of my thoughts – it drew me back to awareness in an instant, sending a shock through me along with the dreadful realization that I had again failed to keep an eye on him and his weapons. I whirled around, prepared to spring, but I was already too late. In the fading golden light, I found myself muzzle to muzzle with the mythril rifle, centered in Ruger's sights.

Time seemed to expand as the shock I felt rippled through my body, blossoming into a burning furor. The wind still blew calmly in across the plains, and the sun still clung for its life to the horizon. Ruger's face, still partly obscured below the brim of his hat, was flat and cold. There was no emotion, no waver in his eyes. He didn't blink or even breathe noticeably. His shot was lined up. It was obvious to me this had been his plan. He'd been calculating the entire day how best to arrive at this point, and now here we were. I didn't understand why he hadn't yet shot. Perhaps hanging his victory over me like a veil before making the kill… Perhaps he was waiting for me to make my move… In an instant, I examined my options – could I reach him before he shot? Or maybe duck to the right to make him miss with his first shot, come back at him before he could reload… I just needed to move. And yet, when I tried, my paws felt anchored to the ground, locked in place. Staring down the barrel of the rifle at him, I couldn't move. I couldn't even bare my teeth. I was stunned, and I could do nothing but stare dumbly at him for what felt like minutes, feeling inexplicably betrayed.

The faces of all the people I'd ever met rushed back through my mind in a split-second, my father and grandfather among them. I wondered if that was what it was to have your life flash before your eyes, slightly surprised that there might be some truth to it. Grandfather's face lingered for some reason. _Grandfather… I'm sorry… I… _The words wouldn't come, and in the chaos of the moment, I wasn't even sure I knew what I was trying to say. I expected at any moment to see the muzzle flash. Ever so brief, the flash of light, then perhaps the overpowering, violent pressure across my face as the bullet tore into me, and finally it would go black and that would be that. But it never came. I may have been waiting for two seconds or two minutes – I had no idea – but there was no flash. There was no bullet.

And then, Ruger spoke, eliciting a spike of adrenaline and confusion in me. "Get down," he said, forcefully and flatly, as much a command as a threat.

My mind was so frozen that I almost could not comprehend the words. They made no sense to me. They sounded familiar, but it was as if they were spoken in another language. _…Get… down?_

"Get down!" Ruger demanded again, more emphatically this time, as though he'd heard my thoughts.

_Get…down. Get down. Get down. _The words repeated in my head, but I could not spur myself into action. There was something else too… Almost imperceptible… like the slow beating of a heart on the wind… It was quiet at first, somewhere behind me, but it increased in volume at a frighteningly rapid pace until it sounded as though it were my own pulse in my ears. _That's not right…_

I saw Ruger's head begin to reel back, exposing more and more of his face to me. The cold, calculating look he'd had just a moment before was gone, replaced with a burgeoning wide-eyed panic that instantly made it clear to me that something else was happening here.

And then I saw it. The pre-emptive strike materia in his still-holstered, defunct rifle, glowing a brilliant purple and visibly rattling both the rifle and Ruger's backpack on the ground.

_Not my pulse. Wingbeats!_

No sooner had the realization struck than a deep shadow fell over me as something moved between the setting sun and me. I wheeled around to see what it was, but as soon as I moved, Ruger's rifle rang out into the panicked silence, shattering it. The world flashed and fell away into blackness in an instant, and a sudden, intense pressure overtook me, bearing down on me from every direction with crushing force. Blinded, my other senses exploded. I felt for an instant as though I were being dragged somewhere and then as though I were tumbling and being pressed and grinded violently into the ground. And then there was nothing.

My senses numbed and confusion reigned. I didn't know if I'd been shot, crushed, or outright beheaded by whatever was behind me –perhaps the pressure I'd felt was Ruger's shot piercing my skull, and the rush of sensations a paroxysm of electrical impulses as the bullet tore through my brain. I wasn't sure, but ultimately I knew that was it. That was the end of me. I lay in the darkness, unable to move, unable to breath, and I waited. I wasn't sure for what, but I expected there to be… something… And yet there was only darkness.


	15. Hunter's Mark - Beyond

Chapter Excerpt:

"Now I don' expect anything I say to change your opinion of me, jus' like you shouldn't expect anything you say to change me." He waited expectantly, watching me for signs of a response, and after a moment continued on. "But maybe you can see where I'm comin' from at the very least, yeah?"

I had to contemplate what I wanted to say next. "…Why does it matter to you what I think of you? **Does** it matter? I mean, you have a legion of fans who hang onto your every word. I assume you've accumulated a pretty sizeable wealth over the years, and you're known the world over for what you do. Ask an average person if they know who Onuris is and then ask them who Nanaki is. You'll only get one correct answer. I've been around the world several times over – over a much longer period of time than you've even been alive, I might add – and I'm still insignificant compared to you. So why does what I think matter?"

* * *

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, the hunter finds his mark in the aftermath of the hunt. A pdf of the entire fifth section of the story, titled Hunter's Mark (four chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

* * *

Beyond

_Gilligan?_ I asked my mind, halfway expecting a response.

But the darkness didn't ripple, or move, or expand. It was just… black. For an instant, I felt alone, wondering if this could possibly be the beginning of my return to the planet, but then, slowly, I became aware of two things. In what I presumed to be my ear, I heard the pulse again, only this time I was sure it was mine. My heart was beating. Could I hear that if I were dead? I wasn't sure. In addition to the pulse, I became aware of a stinging, sharp pain in my chest. Every time I tried to breathe, I was met with the crushing pressure and this pain, like a dagger being twisted inside me. Could I feel pain if I were dead? Could I have thoughts at all if I were dead?

The answer, I decided, was that I did not think so, which meant both that my brain was intact and, perhaps more importantly, that I was not dead. And that meant I'd been crushed. With some effort, I was able to move my head to look around. I was pinned on my right side, I determined. The ground was below me, but I could not tell what was on top of me. Ahead, almost behind me, I could just barely see a dim horizontal slit of red-orange light.

_A way out. _Try as I might, though, I still couldn't move. I was effectively pinned, and the effort did nothing but exacerbate the pain in my chest. A second spike of pain erupted in my hind right foot when I tried to reposition it to get some grip on the ground. _I really am stuck…_

I inhaled shallowly a few times to prepare another effort to free myself, and as I did, the scent of the thing on top of me rushed in through my nose. It was a distinct, earthy smell, so thick that it felt almost oily in my nostrils. It was an animal for certain. There was the scent of blood too, seeping in around me, but I couldn't tell if it was mine or not. I tried and failed to loose myself again, collapsing under the weight of the animal. Fur, or maybe feathers brushed against my nose. Whatever it was, the texture felt strangely pleasant. Soothing, relaxing, despite the situation.

The thought popped into my head, _Might as well find __**something**__ comforting. I might be here a while. _I did not seem to be seriously injured, and so I was content to lie there, buried, at least until I regained some of my strength.

A few moments passed quietly by, and the smell of blood got stronger. I did not become dizzy or otherwise disoriented, which ultimately brought me to the conclusion that the blood was not my own. No sooner did I begin wondering where Ruger had gone off to than I heard his voice, muffled and distant, calling out to me.

"…Nak? …Nak? Are you okay?" And a few seconds later: "C'mon, Nak, y' gotta talk to me if you're okay in there. Lemme know you're okay."

I tried to call out to him, but my voice failed me at first, coming forth only as a painful airy whisper. I cleared my throat with some effort and tried again. "…I'm here, Ruger. Banged up a bit, and I'm pinned down, but I'm here."

It was silent for a moment, and then I heard Ruger speak again. "Nak, was that you? If it was, say something again."

I gave the same response again.

"Yer what?"

"Stuck!" I called after him.

"Yer stuck? Well what the hell you 'xpect me to do about it?"

"I could use a bit of help to get out."

Silence. "…Arright, arright, lemme see if I can find a way in there to ya."

The slit of light above me flickered out and then back on as Ruger stepped across it, and then the sound of rustling came from somewhere above me. It continued irregularly for a moment, during which the thing on top of me felt slightly heavier, and then it stopped.

"I can't get this thing movin' Nak. You sure you can't get yerself out?"

"What part of 'pinned down' don't you understand?"

Silence again. I thought I heard him curse under his breath, but the sound was so muffled, it could have been anything or nothing.

"…I see a crack of light coming in from ahead of me. Perhaps if you could slip something in here, I could grab on and you could pull me out."

"Where?" came Rugers voice, followed by footsteps leading around the wrong side of the thing on top of me.

"Keep going."

The footsteps continued around the thing, which was actually much larger than I'd anticipated, until eventually, the light flickered out and back on again.

"There!" I called with enough force to spike the pain in my abdomen.

"Here?" The light went out and did not return.

"Yes. Is there anything you can feed in to me?"

"What, you're hungry now?"

If I could have, I would have covered my face with my paw.

"—Oh, oh. Yeah, okay."

The rustling sound from before came again, and then the sound of something scraping through the dirt ahead of me. It came closer and closer, bit by bit in short bursts, and then it hit me, right between the eyes, with enough force to cause me to blink and recoil slightly. It was the butt of his mythril rifle.

_Good aim…_

"-ey Nak, I think I hit something. Like a rock maybe. How close am I?"

"Angle it to the right a bit. You're hitting me in the face. Try to hit my paws."

"Oh…" Ruger repositioned his rifle, and rather expertly hit me straight in the paw with it.

"Ok, let me try to grab it." I did my best to hook my paw into the trigger mechanism, getting two, almost three toes in. Once I was sure I could not get any better a grip, I did my best to get my feet under me for another attempt to push my way free and then called out to Ruger, "I think that's about as good as it's going to get. Start pulling whenever you're ready. I will try to line up my efforts to maximize my escape chance."

"Here goes." There was a short tug on the rifle, not enough to disengage my grip on the gun, and not nearly enough to break me loose. It let up abruptly, as though Ruger had only succeeded in pulling himself forward – an apparent underestimation of how entirely lodged in place I was. I heard him mutter to himself, muffled, "Well that didn' work."

The rifle wobbled around in my grip as he reset himself, and then there was another tug on it, much more substantial that the last had been. After several seconds, it let up.

"Holy cow are you stuck in there, Nak. Jeez. Let's try this again… Here we go –"

His voice was cut off by the effort of his next tug. I tried to push forward with my hind limbs, digging my claws into the earth for traction, while at the same pulling on the rifle with my front limbs. After a long moment, a sharp, sudden pain erupted in my hind right foot, instantly ending my push forward. It was different from the previous pain, which had at this point devolved into a dull omnipresent ache covering my entire hindquarters. This was more localized. I knew almost instantly that I had snapped one of my claws from the force of my efforts. The fourth digit on my right foot. Perhaps it had already been damaged by the thing falling on me, but after a quick test, I was certain that the claw was no longer there.

Surprising though it was, the pain quickly subsided, and I resumed my efforts. It took several minutes of trying, long enough that I began to doubt that I would ever see the outside world again, but eventually I felt myself budge slightly, and then all at once, as though I were coated in grease, I burst forth through the crack of light and was free. Ruger, who had not anticipated my sudden escape, ended up on his back with his feet held to the sky.

The first thing I did was to take a deep breath, ignoring the sharp, stabbing pain in my chest as I inhaled. The smell of blood was still strong, but at least the air itself was open and cool. Glancing back over my shoulder, I finally beheld what had pinned me down for what felt like hours.

"Is that your hippogriff?" I asked matter-of-factly, despite being honestly stunned by the white-furred and feathered beast before me. It lay on its side, dead, a pair of vacant blue eyes staring unflinchingly forward across the plains. A bloody bullet wound above the creature's beak, almost perfectly placed between its eyes, shimmered rusty black in the failing light.

"You're welcome," Ruger retorted, drawing my gaze as he clambered back to his feet. He studied the creature for a long moment, and then said, "Yeah… yeah, that's it."

Even now, with it lying right before me, I found I could hardly believe what I saw. The rifle shot that I thought was meant for me was actually meant for... This had been the crushing weight that bore down on me and left me pinned in the darkness. It was real. After all the rumors I had heard… All the speculation from different people in the village. After all the sideways comments I thought Ruger had made to me… He had never been after me. The white hippogriff was real. This was what he was after. What we were after. I was transfixed and, for a moment, utterly dumbfounded.

"You shoulda ducked, you know," came Ruger's voice calmly from beside me. "It was about half a second from turnin' you into a red smear in the grass."

I glanced at Ruger, bewildered, and then back at the hippogriff. "Yeah. You have my thanks. I still lost one of my claws in the crash, and I think I have a rib or two broken, but given the alternative… I'm glad you're such a good shot."

"I don't miss." After a silent moment, he continued, saying, "Yeah… coulda grabbed you 'n lifted you up a couple hundred feet and then dropped ya to your death, or it coulda taken you back to its nest 'n ripped you apart with that beak it's got, 'r it could just shredded you ta ribbons right here with those claws, 'r…" He paused again, perhaps wondering if there was a time better than now to list out the ways the hippogriff could have killed me. "So there's nothin' too mangled on ya then? Lemme see that foot." He knelt down next to me and motioned for me to lift the foot I'd lost the claw from so he could inspect it.

I looked down and watched him for a second or two before complying, and as I did, I saw why he had asked. From about the ankle down, my foot was completely coated in blood. "I've got some pain in that leg, but I'm confident it's just bumps and bruises."

"Yeah," Ruger responded, not paying overly close attention to my statement. One by one, he pressed down on the tops of each of my toes, unsheathing my claws for inspection, until he reached the clawless toe. "Yep, looks like it's all gone. Isn' bleedin' too bad though, so I think the blood's prolly from the hippogriff." He let go of my foot and shook his hand out, flinging droplets of blood away into the grass. "…You're sure you're okay? It was a nasty landin' that bird made, and it was right on top 'a your head."

"I'll survive. Thanks."

Ruger watched me for a few seconds, as though he were reading me to see if what I had said was the truth. Rising back to his feet, he said, "Okay then. It's about dark, so we gotta get a fire going. Gonna be a cold night tonight, not to mention we'll be up to our elbows in Nibel wolves 'n bears if we can't see to protect this guy."

"If it's wood you're after, I don't know where we'll get it from. I haven't seen a tree in the past hour."

"Well you were snugglin' up to the bird for half 'a that time, so that don't mean there isn' somethin' nearby." Ruger motioned ahead of us along the base of the mountains. A small stand of trees and shrubs I hadn't noticed before was just visible in the twilight. "Might be somethin' we can use out there. Take us maybe 10-15 minutes to get there and back again. Bet we can collect enough to last us a good chunk 'a the night. Let's go check it out."

"I'm not sure I'll be much use."

"Why's that?"

"I can't really carry anything. I need my feet for walking."

Ruger didn't miss a beat before responding, "That's a terrible excuse. I'd have more sympathy if you were complainin' about your ribs. Here." Ruger went to his backpack, still lying partially hidden in the grass, and quickly emptied it out on the ground. A few changes of clothing, a bag of money, and the tent he had mentioned earlier were the only things I could identify. He brought the backpack over to me and, lifting up one of my forepaws and then the other, slid the straps of the pack into place so that I was effectively wearing it. The fit was awkward, with the straps pulling uncomfortably against my fur and restricting my walking motion, but despite the fact that it felt like it was trying to cut my front legs off, I thought I wore it well enough. Ruger took a step back to inspect me, a half-hidden smirk on his face, and then said, "You look miserable."

"I didn't expect to become a pack mule so soon after being crushed."

His smirk fully revealed itself in response. "Could be worse, I suppose. Let's go." Ruger grabbed a flashlight from somewhere in the pile of his belongings, switched it on, and together we set out for the stand of trees.

_Could have been worse, _I thought to myself as we walked. _It could have been worse… _I wondered how carefully he had chosen those words, if perhaps he knew the rumors about his intent just as well as I did, but I decidedly ultimately that I was once again reading too deeply into his comments. It struck me as odd that after having spent so much time trying to find this hippogriff and then having gotten his kill in such grand style, that he had been so quick to leave it behind to find firewood. Not that he had seemed eager to leave, necessarily… Just, he didn't seem particularly eager to inspect it or at all revel in his victory. The impression of him that I had built dictated that he would beam and gloat and possibly even dance, but instead all I had gotten was a stoic 'yeah, that's it' from him. …_Why? _Perhaps he had celebrated while I was pinned under the bird's weight, exhausting his triumphant glory entirely out of my sight, but as we walked, I found myself feeling as though I were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As the moments dragged by in silence, the feeling turned from suspicious expectation to anger as it became apparent that there was no other shoe to drop. Ruger walked on quietly, with no revelry, no dance, no jubilant conversation. Nothing. He truly didn't care about what he'd done, about the animal he'd killed. The quick wit, the endless stream of stories and experiences from past hunts… And now he wouldn't even honor the beast by mentioning it. Was he proud? Disappointed? Contrite? Resentment grew inside me, and silently I demanded that he say something. Anything.

We reached the thicket fully veiled in darkness. The lights of my tail and his flashlight were all we had to go by – there was no moon, and despite my good night vision, I had difficulty avoiding the various branches sneaking in around us. Admittedly, my anger distracted me, almost to the point that I didn't notice the offending branches until after they had struck me, but every now and again, I made a feeble attempt to duck my head out of the way. In any case, we stuck together and began gathering wood. Ruger set about weighing me down with timber of various thicknesses and lengths while I alternated between grabbing some smaller branches and trying to keep from toppling over under the weight of my backpack. The constant adjustments I had to make to the shifting weight on my back played havoc on my ribs, but eventually the pain became so blunt and constant, it numbed itself from my senses. And again, the resentment stirring within me acted as a welcome distraction. After some time, when the backpack had transformed itself more or less into a packsaddle and my legs creaked precariously under its weight, Ruger finally spoke.

"That'll be good I think. Let's head back 'n get camp set up." It was not what I had expected him to say. It was not 'I'm sorry for killin' that bird, Nak,' or even 'it woulda killed you if I hadn' killed it, Nak.' It was all business. Cold, remorseless business.

I could hardly withhold my anger. On the return trip, burdened by the weight of the wood slung over my back and limping from the pain in my foot, I found myself wanting desperately to say something to him. Even if he would merely turn and laugh in my face, I wanted to ask him what kind of person he was that he could do what he did and not a moment later walk off to find firewood. And yet, as the silence between us persisted, a pervasive feeling of guilt began to seep in around me. I was confused by the emotion. Like so much over the past several days, I could not make sense of it. I had thought I was angry, but suddenly…

_Why? _A few moments' thought left me with a set of conclusions. I wondered, was it guilt over the hippogriff's death? The fact that I had thought the question meant that it was true. I saw its hulking body in my mind's eye, and I knew, despite my passive role in the whole ordeal, I had nonetheless led it to its final resting place. I hadn't pulled the trigger, but I had put the bullet between its eyes. The guilt may have stemmed from there. In part, I was responsible for this loss of life.

The imagined apology from Ruger returned to me. _It woulda killed you if I hadn' killed it… _I felt within me a strange sense of primal relief as I repeated the apology in my head, and a deeper understanding of the guilt dawned on me. As much as I wanted to resent the hippogriff's death, to be angry at Ruger for it, I couldn't. I knew ultimately that if it hadn't died, I would have. If Ruger hadn't killed it, it would have killed me. Its death meant I was safe, both from it and from the imaginary, murderous hunt I'd thought Ruger had been on. His actions had given me relief from my own paranoia, and even more than my role in the bird's death, my relief at its killing seemed to be the source of the guilt I felt. Deep down I was thankful for what Ruger had done. Of all that was wrong with the whole situation, it was the fact that I was thankful to him for saving me that truly tore at me.

"You got somethin' you wanna say to me?" Ruger had been watching me in the darkness, out of the corner of his eye at first, and then more directly as he saw I was lost in thought.

"No," I responded. A short moment later, I spoke again. "I mean… You've been really quiet since…"

Ruger regarded me with a decidedly stony gaze, his face only dimly lit by the ambient glow of his flashlight. "Yeah, well… It's been a long day."

We reached the hippogriff ten or fifteen minutes later, and Ruger immediately set about making a campfire. My legs, on the verge of giving out after all we'd been through, were quite happy to have their burden lifted, and after Ruger had successfully off-loaded all the wood, I was happy to remove the pack that had been slung so uncomfortably over my back. Once I'd taken it off, I flipped it with one of my paws toward the pile of Ruger's belongings still lying in the grass. The silence that followed left me unsettled. My gaze drifted listlessly around the darkened campsite until it came to rest on the body of the hippogriff, twisted in the same awkward, half-upturned position we'd left it. In the darkness, it seemed even larger than before, a mountain blotting out the stars in the night sky. I thought for a moment that I saw its sides heaving, marking the passage of time in slow, deep breaths, but a quick second look dashed my hopes.

_Dead…_

"Think you can start gettin' the tent set up over there, Nak?"

I glanced quietly over my shoulder at Ruger, illuminated only by his flashlight, and then back at the bird.

"You do know how to set a tent up, right? Been doin' all this travellin', I figure you musta used a tent or two along the way."

"Not in a long time… I'll give it a try, but no promises." I turned and headed for the pile of Ruger's belongings. The tent was small, obviously meant for only one person, but I had no intentions of sleeping at his side anyways, so I was fine with it. I had no issues getting the frame put together – the metal rods interlocked with one another quite easily – and I got the frame more or less inserted into the fabric of the tent, but setting the stakes to hold the tent down proved more problematic.

There was no hammer to pound them in, and there were no rocks to use in place of a hammer. I fumbled around with the butt of Ruger's mythril rifle for a few moments, but I didn't have the accuracy to get a solid strike in on the stakes. Ultimately, I resorted to stepping onto each stake with a paw or two and intermittently forcing my entire body weight down on it as hard as I could. The ground was somewhat soft, so my efforts were likewise somewhat rewarded. Slowly but surely, each stake was driven home, and even though my paw pads took a beating, after not too long I had the tent set. Not the most triumphant victory, especially given that I was doing it purely for Ruger's benefit, but it was yet another welcome distraction for me. After I finished, I became aware again of the silence of the night and of the scent of death drifting past me on the breeze.

Ruger finished the campfire long before I got the tent staked – when I glanced over at him, he was sitting quietly at fireside, perched on a log, watching me with a stoic look on his face. "You got it all done?"

I nodded.

"Well, come on over and grab a seat then. It's gettin' pretty damn cold out." As I walked over, he studied me, and about the time I reached the fire, he asked with a quick nod of his head, "Foot's still botherin' you, huh?"

His question drew my attention to the fact that the blood caking my foot had dried, clotting into a cracked half-boot that tugged at my fur with each step I took. _Should have cleaned that. _"A bit. More my pads than the claw though. The tent stakes didn't go in easily."

"Well ya did a good job on it in any case. Was fun ta watch. Somethin' I've never seen before." He paused briefly. "How 'bout the ribs?"

"Fine. I'll survive."

"Yeah…" Ruger smiled faintly and looked at the hippogriff behind me. "It really coulda messed you up pretty good, I bet. Lot bigger than I thought he'd be."

I turned my head to get another look. It clung to the very edge of the light the campfire threw out. The undulating waves of the open flame, pulling the bird in and out of the shadows, gave the same illusion of slow breathing – and again, a quick second look confirmed it was still dead.

"Good lookin' animal, isn' it?" Ruger asked after a few quiet minutes.

"It's a shame it had to die," I said in as non-accusatory a tone as I could muster.

"Yeah."

I turned back to him, mildly shocked. "Come again?"

Ruger laughed. "Well, don't sound so surprised there, Nak. Wha'dya mean, 'come again?'"

"Nothing… I mean… It just doesn't sound like you, is all."

He didn't respond for a long moment, first watching me with a waning smile and then looking into the campfire intently. "You been around for a long time, Nak," he said at last, speaking quietly to the flickering flames. For the first time since I'd met him, I heard a hint of fatigue in his voice. "And whether you'll admit it or not, what you 'n me do isn' all that different. We're explorers in a world that isn't always friendly. Pretty damn harsh a lot of the time. 'Dog eat dog,' if you wanna cliché it. You don't get by without killin' at some point. Am I right?"

I wanted to disagree, but I knew after all I'd experienced in my time abroad that I couldn't. "Yes," I responded in an unintentionally hushed tone.

"So, as long as you've been out there, you had to kill to find your way at some point or another," he said, more as a declaration than as a question.

"…Yes."

"And it isn' easy, is it?"

"Not always, no." I wasn't sure why I had phrased my response that way.

"Leastways, it's something you gotta take it seriously, every single time." Ruger bent over and picked up his flashlight from the grass in front of him. "You don't have a very good opinion of me," he said, flicking the light on and pointing into the fire. "That's pretty obvious to me. And you know, I'd bet a lot a what you think about me is true. Valid, even." He flicked the light off and then on again, holding it steady on the fire as though it were the only thing keeping the wood ablaze. "But one thing I think you sold me short on is how I feel 'bout what I do. For all the stories I tell, 'n all the jokes I make, 'n all the celebrations I have, 'n all the drinks I drink, jus' know… It ain't easy. Like I told you the other night, at the end of the day, an animal's an animal, but… killin' it ain't easy. You won't ever catch me tellin' a joke, or laughin', or even smilin' when I pull the trigger on my rifle."

The flashlight flicked on, then off, then on, and then off again, in a slow repeating rhythm as he spoke, and even though its light was mostly drowned out by the light of the campfire, it increasingly drew my attention. "Cause takin' a life isn't somethin' you jus' do on a whim, or on your way to the store." He turned the flashlight off, but continued to hold it in place. "Bet that isn' something you 'spected to hear from someone like me – a non-believer in your whole 'Planet Life' theory – eh?" he asked, glancing over at me. Without waiting for an answer, he continued on. "Truth is, if it's like you said the other night and there's nothin' else after this… If we jus' die 'n don't return to the planet, then yeah, there's a certain amount a respect you gotta have for life. And there's a certain kinda responsibility you take every time you pull the trigger. There's nothin' says you can't enjoy the hunt and the feelin' it gives you, but at least in my case, I understand what I'm doin'… I understand the responsibility I have, and the seriousness 'a what I do. So make no mistake: I joke, and I laugh, and I may be a bit of a bastard some 'a the time, but when it comes to pullin' the trigger… A lot 'a the time it isn't fun, and it ain't ever easy."

All I could find in me to say was, "I see."

"Now I don' expect anything I say to change your opinion of me, jus' like you shouldn't expect anything you say to change me." He waited expectantly, watching me for signs of a response, and after a moment continued on. "But maybe you can see where I'm comin' from at the very least, yeah?"

I had to contemplate what I wanted to say next. "…Why does it matter to you what I think of you? **Does** it matter? I mean, you have a legion of fans who hang onto your every word. I assume you've accumulated a pretty sizeable wealth over the years, and you're known the world over for what you do. Ask an average person if they know who Onuris is and then ask them who Nanaki is. You'll only get one correct answer. I've been around the world several times over – over a much longer period of time than you've even been alive, I might add – and I'm still insignificant compared to you. So why does what I think matter?"

Ruger gave a quick, sharp exhalation through his nose, looking down at the ground in front of him briefly with a slight smile on his face. "Oh, who knows, Nak. Maybe it shouldn't. Maybe it doesn't. But you know, I've never met anyone quite like you before. I mean, aside from the obvious differences, you're just… You're different. Kinda like a little mystery, all wound up into a ball. I'm not sure what to make of you, ya know? Talkin' to you, I feel like there's somethin' deep down inside of you that you really don't want anyone to know. You keep your distance, and you keep yourself all formal because you really don't want anyone to see what you got hidden away in there. It drives you to be who you are, but all the same you keep it hidden away. And it makes me wanna get to know you. It makes me wanna see if I can figure out the mystery so that I can really understand who you are."

He paused, putting together his next few thoughts in his head. "Long story short, I like you, ya know? You're an interesting card in an otherwise bland deck. You got a certain kinda class about you most people in this day 'n age don't have, and despite all that Gillian nonsense, you genuinely seem to think about yourself 'n how you fit in this world, 'n about the responsibility you have to it. Just about everyone else I ever met is only after a good story. They wanna drink with me an' hear how I got my scar, 'n what my favorite type a rifle is. That's not you. Given how that first drink I bought ya went, goodness knows that's not you. An' I gotta respect that. I ain't the brightess bulb in the barrel myself, so I gotta respect someone who thinks. Maybe that's why it matters."

"Hm… I guess I appreciate that. I don't think I picture myself as mystery… Or as 'wound up into a ball,' but I appreciate the sentiment. …And here's what I'll say: Hunting bothers me. It always has, and it probably always will. Like you said, I'm different. I'm not a human, and I've been around long enough to have developed a view of the world that is probably vastly different than yours – one that's been tempered by more beauty and tragedy than you know. You haven't seen first-hand the course life takes over time when left to its own devices. You haven't seen the landscape bend, break, and rebuild itself under the forces of nature. And you haven't seen the death and destruction that humanity has rained down on this planet over the course of its existence." Ruger was watching me again, with the same intent, emotionless look on his face. "That said… If what you've told me has any truth to it, you really do take what you do seriously. I won't lie: Shooting your rifle earlier today was…exhilarating to be sure, but it's not something I could ever do with the intent to kill. And I can't condone sport killing, no. I can't accept that humans don't have enough other things to distract them and prevent the arbitrary killing of animals from occurring. But… I think under the auspices of responsibility… If that's possible… Then yes, I can see where you're coming from."

Ruger nodded but didn't say anything. The fire crackled away at our sides and seemed just barely able to beat back the cold of the night. I wasn't sure how long we'd been talking, but it felt like hours and there was no moon to help me guess. It was just the two of us on the Nibel plains, a fire and a dead hippogriff for company under the silent, starry sky above.

Some time later, as the fire began to die down a bit and the cold to creep in around us, I heard Ruger's voice call out from his spot opposite me, "So are you happy I didn't shoot you then?"

My heart jumped. "…You have good aim, that's for sure."

"That isn' what I meant."

Searching for any other possible meaning his question could have had, I said nothing. Could he possibly have known?

Ruger smiled and let the sudden anxiety I felt sink in before he spoke. "I do have good aim though – I'll give ya that."

"So you knew the rumors then?"

"Well I ain't blind, if that's what yer askin'. Ain't deaf either. Tell you the truth, I was surprised you came out with me today. Figured with all the whispers runnin' through the crowds since I first met ya, you wouldn't let yourself around me with any less than 10 other people with ya."

"I guess it's like you said earlier – I felt obligated to a certain extent once you asked. I debated it for quite some time, but I decided ultimately that I should come."

"D'you come out lookin' for revenge for your missin' villager?"

Again, my heart jumped. Given that he'd claimed he wasn't the 'brightest bulb in the barrel,' he sure had an incredible intuitive grasp of all of my thoughts. "…I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

"I figured. I'd prolly feel the same way if I were in your shoes. …Err, paws…" He looked at me blankly for a quick, awkward moment and then continued. "In any case, you gotta know, I feel really bad about how it all went down. I can't control those people that follow me all the time, even if I wish I could. When somethin' like this happens, I really do feel terrible, like it's my fault even though I didn' do it. So I feel like I gotta apologize for it, even if it's only to you." The way he spoke about it made it sound as though this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

"…It won't bring him back."

"Yeah… An' I wish there was somethin' I could do about that. Really do."

"Yeah."

"In any case, I hope he's all right. Maybe your guy jus' got fed up with me 'n left to do some research or somethin'. Maybe he'll come back in a few days."  
"I don't think so. I smelled blood when I was investigating this morning."

"Hmph. …Well you lemme know how it turns out."

_Let me know… _This was an entirely different Ruger than I thought I'd seen over the past few days. I wondered if the attitudes and the personality he'd had in the presence of his following could possibly just have been an act. Every time I'd seen him, he had been in, or at least near, the company of others… Even if they weren't in the room with us, they were nearby, almost certainly listening for Ruger's next sentence. _But why the act?_ _And if it __**is**__ all an act, have I ever seen the 'real' Ruger? Is this it?_ _Out in the middle of the Nibel Plains, surrounded by the night, not another person for hours in any direction…_ _That's what it takes for him to drop his stage persona?_ _I wonder why he's willing to do it in my company._ My gaze had drifted off into the distance, I realized, but as I refocused on Ruger, I saw he had drifted off a bit too. He looked tired, understandably so after such a long day, but I wondered if perhaps there was something else underlying it. _Maybe he really does think of me differently. How strange…_

_ But… Ruger the hunter, and Ruger the person. _I had trouble reconciling that duality. They were entirely different people, seemingly contradictory. There was something backwards about it all, something that I couldn't quite pin down. Who was I seeing now? Was this Ruger the hunter? Who had it been in the canyon who was so worried about maintaining his persona even when there was no one else in the room? It struck me that in spite of my objections to hunting, it might be the hunter in Ruger that I most respected. I disliked him as a person but respected him as a hunter. _Completely backwards… _Or perhaps I had misidentified the dichotomy altogether. Perhaps Ruger actually split his obligations between hunter and celebrity. _In which case the hunter is the person… Maybe he was right then… We aren't all that different…_

"Don't think I'm gonna make it much longer here, Nak. I gotta get some sleep."

My thoughts were broken. "Ok."

"You wanna take the rest of the night in shifts? That way we each get a little bit of sleep anyways."

"Sure. I'll take the first shift. You get some sleep – I'm usually pretty wide awake after dark anyways."

"Yeah?'

"Yes. It's just how I'm wired. Despite my best efforts, I tend toward a crepuscular sleep cycle given the chance."

"Gotcha." Ruger's eyes drooped, a decided nonreaction that led me to believe either that I'd lost him at crepuscular, or that he was too tired to care. In any case, he rose to his feet after a moment, yawned, stretched his legs, and headed for his tent. Stopping crouched in the doorway, he turned to me and asked, "Hey Nak, do you shed?"

_Incredible. _I almost laughed, but managed to keep my composure well enough to respond, "A bit. Not too bad. Why?"

"Hm," Ruger responded in a disappointed tone. "I was gonna offer to let you sleep in my tent when I take my shift, but if you don't keep track of your fur, I don't want you fluffin' it up in there."

"I understand. I keep the best track of it that I can, but it unfortunately does get away from me on occasion."

"Well… If you promise to try and keep it all in one place, I guess that's okay too. Wake me up in a couple hours or if we get some company."

"Pleasant dreams. And… I'm happy you didn't shoot me. Thanks for that."

Ruger smiled sleepily and said, "You got it Nak," and after a short, contemplative delay, he ducked through the flapped doorway into the tent and was gone.

I deliberated for some time what I would do about the hippogriff. I knew I had no intentions of waking Ruger up to switch shifts, and I knew I did not want to sleep in his tent any more than he wanted me in it, but… About the hippogriff… Part of me still did not want to see the beast in Ruger's hands the following day, and so bid that I exercise inaction should any beasts happen upon our camp. But part of me still felt guilt over its death, and so bid that I protect it at all costs. Despite what we'd been through, and despite what had been said that night, the debate continued on inside me. By the time the faint snores began emanating from the tent, I had decided that I would protect it, even if it meant Ruger would get his prize. I was conflicted, and when I pressed myself, I could not say for certain why, but that was my decision, and the longer I thought about it, the more resolute I became. On an impulse, I took a few minutes to clean my foot, and as the rusty taste of blood rolled around on my tongue, I inspected the clawless toe carefully to assess the damage I'd sustained. Torn cleanly at the base, a bit of red tissue showing in the empty wound left behind.

_Will it grow back? _I wondered.

The snores continued on, painted against the silence of the night, and for a long while I did nothing but think and listen, soothed by the hush surrounding the campsite. Even 24 hours before, I would have convinced myself that something was watching me from beyond the reach of the firelight – Gilligan possibly, rippling in the darkness, waiting for its chance to strike – but now, all I saw…all I felt were the wide expanse of the plains, the imagined crash of waves on the beaches to the west, and the faint, cool breeze meandering its way through the grasses and encroaching on us as the fire's strength dwindled. And, of course, there was Ruger's rhythmic snoring as well, not quite meshing with the tranquility of the night.

…_Is this it?_ I repeated the question in my mind several times and found myself with a contented smile spreading across my face. Hearing no response, I made my own. "So then, this is it." _Perhaps that is why. Even here, with him as my only company… As similar or different as we might be, as much as we might disagree with each other… I'm not alone. _Despite our differences, I felt like there had been some sort of connection between us. Perhaps it was my gratitude for him having saved me, or perhaps it was the fact that we had laid ourselves open, bearing our honestthoughts and opinions about each other, to each other. No facades, no formalities…We had been ourselves, even if only in our own company. Whatever it may have been, I felt that from it had sprung some strange sort of camaraderie. _Perhaps not friendship, _I told myself, _but certainly a kind of camaraderie. So maybe there is something to this 'being yourself' then…_

It amazed me that I had taken so long to come to that realization. I had spent so long travelling, trying and failing to adapt to human societies around the world as I went, that I had lost sight of the fact that I did not have to adapt for everyone. I thought my experiences had isolated me, that my purpose was as much to learn about the life around the planet as it was to try to adapt myself to it, and my inability to do so left me ultimately alone. Certainly there were those who would see me as nothing but an animal no matter how I changed myself, but perhaps the onus wasn't on me to adapt to them. Because… There were people for whom being myself was enough – friends, family, acquaintances… And oddly enough, Ruger was among them. Something I had missed in all my time abroad, in all the time I'd attempted to humanize myself, was that the people I cared about didn't want me to be human. They wanted me to be Nanaki.

I wasn't sure how I could have missed something so obvious, but there it was. Perhaps Gilligan had clouded my judgment, paralyzing me with fear so thoroughly that I could not even bear to try to change… But if this was what change meant… Even with the death involved… The smile persisted for several minutes.

Some time later, when the campfire had died down to a small flame, I rose to my feet and fed it another log. After a moment, the log crackled, sparking off a few embers, and caught, rejuvenating the fire. I returned to my spot and lay down to wait out the night.


	16. Hunter's Mark - Reconnection

Chapter Excerpt:

"Now listen," he said, flipping open a large, deep pocket on the outside of the pack and rummaging around inside. "I know we didn' always get along these past few days, 'r see eye to eye on everythin' we talked about, but I'm serious when I say I'm happy to have met you. Talked more to you'n I think I've talked with anyone the past few years. For the most part it was a joy. Still don' think I got you quite figured out though. So…" His words seemed distracted by his search through his pack. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and he continued. "So… I want you ta have this." From the pack he pulled a slim, rectangular block of metal, not much bigger than the palm of his hand and covered on one of the large faces by glass that glinted at me in the morning sunlight. "Go on, take it," he said, holding it out to me in his hand.

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Welcome to the final chapter of Hunter's Mark! In this chapter a connection is made, and the two travelers part ways. PDFs of the entire story (16 chapters total) and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request. Thanks for reading!

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Reconnection

Morning came sooner than I expected, accompanied by a chilly nip in the air. I couldn't say how long I had been at fireside, only that I had exhausted our supply of timber over the course of the night. As the fire faded and died for the last time, the sky began to lighten over the top of the mountains to the east, at first a deep emerald green, brightening into a faint turquoise hue over some number of minutes. Somewhere off in the distance a flock of songbirds, roused by the first light, greeted the morning, wearily calling and singing amongst themselves. The plains came into view as the veil of night slowly lifted, as did Ruger's tent and the dead hippogriff, which still lay twisted on its side, staring serenely into the distance. The breeze that had blown so steadily the entire night long seemed to have paused to allow the day to begin, leaving the grass of the plains utterly still. In fact, as the sky reached its turquoise hue, the entire world seemed to slow to a standstill, perched on the cusp of the new day, waiting for something to spur it forth. Even Ruger's snoring, mostly unceasing throughout the night, had quieted itself to inaudible levels in the morning light. The only evidence that time hadn't actually stopped was the birdsong in the distance, gradually growing in diversity and energy as more individuals joined in the fray. And despite the fact that I had been awake all night, a strange kind of excitement filled me – I wanted to get up and run around to nowhere in particular until I was out of breath, to roll around in the grass until its earthy scent filled my lungs and drowned out the scent of the hippogriff. Broken ribs, not withstanding.

Eventually, the sky over the mountains began again to shift hues, passing along its older colors to the more western skies. This time it was to a more proper shade of light blue, then to a white-blue color, and then to a white-gold color – it seemed almost rushed in relation to how it had clung to the turquoise hue earlier. The sun would crest over the mountains any minute now, and I knew as soon as its light hit Ruger's tent, he would be awake. And then that would be it.

I wished inwardly for the dawn to freeze again, to give me just a bit longer with my quiet company, but as I feared it would, the sun soon crested over the mountains, casting golden rays of light across the plains, and as soon as the light hit Ruger's tent, I heard stirring inside. The white-gold tint was lost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a rather normal, rich cerulean blue, and almost on cue the birds in the distance spread out around us, singing with their full might. The day had begun in earnest.

After a few more moments of rustling around in his sleeping bag, Ruger seemed finally to realize that it was dawn. The tent shifted violently to the right as he got to his feet, and after fumbling around briefly at the zipper on the inside of the door flap, he was out in a flash.

"Nak? Everythin' all right?"

"Everything is fine, yes."

Ruger glanced around, taking a quick inventory of the campsite, and then asked, "How come you didn' wake me up? Thought we were takin' shifts."

"I had it covered, no problem. Just thought I'd let you sleep. Like I said, I catch my second wind at night."

"Hmph…" He finished his examination and returned his gaze to me, yawning and crossing his arms across his chest. "Well I guess nothin' happened, so it's all good. You stayed up all night?"

"Yes."

"Must be tired now then, yeah?"

"I'll survive."

Ruger regarded me with a sleepy smirk on his face. "All right then. I'm gonna start gettin' the tent broken down. Soon as I got everythin' packed, I'm gonna hit the road, try to get to Nibelheim as quick as possible. Needa get some more people out here if we're gonna do anythin' about that hippogriff. You wanna come along?"

I thought for a moment and then answered. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll head back home to the canyon. I've got a few people expecting me back."

"Yeah? Well, you come help me break everythin' down before you leave then, ok?"

I obliged, and together, we had the campsite disassembled and more or less packed away inside of fifteen minutes. As Ruger threw his last odds and ends into his backpack, I found myself watching the hippogriff again with a strange curiosity. The anger and resentment from the previous night had dissipated, likely as a result of the conversation I'd had with Ruger around the campfire.

_Ain't ever easy…_ An odd thought, a question, popped into my head: _If it had been the other way around, could I have done the same thing?_

I didn't get a chance to answer my question, as Ruger broke my concentration with a question of his own. "Now you're sure you don' wanna come with me?" he asked, walking up beside me, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"You don't think you can handle the walk on your own?" I responded with just a hint of mockery in my voice.

"Hehe, that's not quite it. You jus' got a good way about you is all. You're quiet, but you're a good companion."

"Careful with your word choice there."

"Eh, you know what I mean. Least I didn' tell you you're a good boy and pat ya on the head, right?" Ruger dropped his backpack from his shoulder to the ground. "Now listen," he said, flipping open a large, deep pocket on the outside of the pack and rummaging around inside. "I know we didn' always get along these past few days, 'r see eye to eye on everythin' we talked about, but I'm serious when I say I'm happy to have met you. Talked more to you'n I think I've talked with anyone the past few years. For the most part it was a joy. Still don' think I got you quite figured out though. So…" His words seemed distracted by his search through his pack. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and he continued. "So… I want you ta have this." From the pack he pulled a slim, rectangular block of metal, not much bigger than the palm of his hand and covered on one of the large faces by glass that glinted at me in the morning sunlight. "Go on, take it," he said, holding it out to me in his hand.

I sat on my haunches and took the metal block from Ruger. Turning it end over end, I examined all its faces in an attempt to figure out what it was. My confusion must have been evident, because Ruger reached over and oriented it in my paws, glass side facing me. My reflection, tinted black in the glass, stared sleepily back at me.

"Cell phone. I got to thinkin' the other night when you were tellin' me about that phone you used ta have, 'n I figured, I have an extra in case of emergencies, so… Yeah, I want you ta have it." He paused to gauge my reaction.

"Thanks," I said, slightly less confused now that I knew what I was looking at. "Phones have…really changed. I mean, where are all the buttons? I only see this one on the top of it. Aren't there supposed to be numbers or something?"

"Oh. Yeah, there are. It's all touchscreen. So, press that button on top. Yeah, now go to the bottom and touch that little sign that says 'Phone' on it."

I did as Ruger told me – slowly, as it took a moment for me to decipher the user interface. I had seen my fair share of technology over the years, and while I wasn't well versed with the use of it, I wasn't entirely overwhelmed either.

"Okay, so you got all your numbers in here. In the 'contacts' menu. I actually got mine programmed in already. I want you to give me a call from time to time, ok?"

I looked at the screen and examined the numbers on it. There were two phone numbers saved on the phone – one titled 'Me,' and one titled 'Nelson.' "So this is you on bottom?" I asked.

Ruger looked over my shoulder at the screen and responded, "Yep, 'at's me. To call, you jus' press my name, an' then press the call button. The other number's yours, so you can give it out to people you want to keep in touch with."

"I see. Well thank you. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. It has a thing in there too, let's you record your voice, like if you wanna take down a mental note or somethin'. Maybe come in handy while you're on the road."

"Fantastic. I'm sure it will." I smiled in approval, accidentally baring my teeth just a bit.

Ruger continued on, unfazed. "Now, like I said, you be sure to give me a call from time to time, let me know how it's goin'. Keep me up to speed on Gillian. And lemme know how it turns out with your missing villager, ok?"

"Will do."

"Oh, and this too. Charger, for when the battery runs out." Ruger pulled from his pack a long black wire with an electrical plug at one end and handed it to me. "Otherwise, the thing'll be good for about three days an' then it's done for. Didn' see many outlets back in the village, but I'm sure you'll find a way to make do. Right?"

I smiled. "Right."

"Right," he repeated. We both were silent for a moment. "Well… Guess 'at's about it then, eh?" he asked, breaking the quiet. "Unless you got somethin' else to say."

I had taken the moment of silence to wrap up the charger and phone and stow them away for the return trip to the canyon. "No, I think you're right."

"Hm. Well then… Put 'er there." Ruger held out his hand, looking for a handshake from me.

Without hesitation, I extended my paw to meet him. We shook, bid each other farewell, and then turned and left in our opposite directions. And that was that.

The walk back was a slog – no matter how hard I tried to walk, pushing through the constant stabbing soreness in my chest and the occasional twinge of pain my foot, it just seemed to go slowly. The plains stretched on interminably ahead, a sea of grasses waving at me in the midmorning breeze. Was the canyon really this far away? Had we really come this far since yesterday? After a few hours, I began wondering if Ruger was dealing with the same impatience on his course. Or perhaps he had already made it to Nibelheim. _Would it be all right to call and see? _I wondered. I stopped shortly thereafter to take out my new phone, and turned it on using the button on top. Down at the bottom, I saw the 'phone' sign. I pressed it once, and then twice, neither time receiving a response from it.

_Did I break it already? _I wondered to myself. I tried pressing the button a few more times, and on the fifth attempt, the phone finally responded, advancing to the 'contacts' screen I remembered from earlier. _Must just not be sensitive enough to pick up my paw pads. Figures. _It was a slight let down, a reminder that the phone was not intended to be used by someone…like me. Rather than proceeding with the call, I pressed the button on top again to turn the phone off and put it away. _Still a long journey ahead. There will be time to call later. _I continued on through the plains.

There was a tangible sigh of relief when I arrived back in the village. I was welcomed with open arms as though it had been another two years since I'd been home, and in contrast to my arrival a few days earlier, I was happy to return the affections I received. Marin, Eian, the Elders, and everyone else… I was genuinely happy to see them, and I was genuinely happy to be home.

Only one face was missing. And I wish I could say I saw Marcus again, that he really had just gone off to the Ancient Forest to get away from Ruger and do some research. Unfortunately, I can't. We never found out what happened, and we never found him. To this day, the only evidence I have is the scent of blood I caught outside of Marin's hut.

There was a short service for Marcus around the Cosmo Candle in the weeks after I returned, mostly as a means of remembrance. It was raining, not hard, but enough that we all were cold and soaked head to toe before it was over. Villagers told stories about him with a fondness that belied the fact that he'd only been in the canyon for six months. I wondered briefly how Marcus had made such genuinely deep connections in such a short period of time, but I chose not to linger on it – the fact that he had done so was far more important. More than a few tears were shed, and the resentment of the hunters and the pain they'd caused was palpable, but it was perhaps the most poignant illustration of our community's integrity that I could remember from all the years I'd lived in the canyon. I found during the proceedings that while I mourned with all the rest of the villagers, there was a strange sense of happiness that stirred within me. A kind of a bittersweet feeling that warmed me even as the rain flowed down and dripped off the end of my nose.

The hunters were gone though, and barring that apparent tragedy, life returned more or less to normal in the canyon over the ensuing weeks. The vast majority of the reservations at the inn were cancelled as word spread that Ruger and his ilk had been expelled from the village, but beyond that… The sun rose, it set, Planet Life studies resumed, and surprisingly, Gilligan made no appearances. I called Ruger twice – first, when he was on the far side of the Nibel Mountains in Rocket Town, and again a few weeks later when he had somehow found his way all the way back around the mountains to Corel. I don't recall anymore what we talked about, only that we talked. I gained some expertise with the phone he had given me though, to the point where it only occasionally took a second tap of the paw for the screen to respond to me, and despite the usual difficulties getting the speaker to reach my ear at the same time the microphone reached my mouth, I enjoyed the correspondence.

My stay in the canyon was longer than I had expected it to be – more than a month instead of just a week, but it was a month that I greatly enjoyed. I didn't feel as though I'd overstayed my welcome, but ultimately, I decided after that month that it was time for me to leave once again. On my last day in the canyon, I made a return visit to my father through the GI Caves, and although it was dark, I found my way with relative ease. Upon arrival, I made my way up to his body, lay down next to him, and looked quietly out over his Watch. The better part of an hour passed with nothing spoken between us. I wondered what I would do if I lived to see him erode away completely, but eventually decided that I would worry about it when the time came. For the time being, I remained content. The world would change, and both my father and I would change along with it. But for now, we were who we were, and that was the most I could hope for.

I left with a smile some time later and walked back through the caves to the village. Nothing watched me, I was not pursued through the tunnels, and I did not get lost along the way – in fact, I made quite good time, arriving back in the village inside of thirty minutes. For some reason, a sense a great accomplishment bloomed inside me. It stuck with me through the rest of the day as I packed up what few belongings I had in preparation for the journey ahead. And when the following day came, I found myself on the front steps of the village in front of all its residents, thanking everyone for their hospitality, receiving hugs and kisses on my forehead and rustles of my hair, and for the first time in a very long time, I was sad to be leaving home. As I descended the steps out of the village, I told myself the feeling would pass, but inwardly, I hoped to hang onto it for the rest of my life.

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_Afterword: _

_And there you have it. Thanks to those of you who have taken the time to read my story, and especially to those of you who have given me feedback on it. Whether positive, neutral, or negative, I appreciate your words, and I can't say enough how grateful I am that you took the time to tell me what you think of the story. I wrote Hunter's Mark over the course of two-plus years, and its path changed several times over. It could have been longer, it could have been shorter (goodness knows it could have been shorter!), it could have been darker, and it could have been lighter. There are many things it could have been, but ultimately, it is what it is, and that's fine by me. :) Thanks again for reading, and here's hoping you enjoyed this little snapshot in Nanaki's life. Take care!_

_-robbobert_


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